What Am I?
by WonderousPlaceForAnEcho
Summary: After college Rachel and Quinn meet again under odd circumstances.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: New, strange story. Not my typical genre at all.

Title: What am I? (Just a body in your bed.)

Honestly I couldn't think of a better title so its basedvery loosely after the song Body by Thao + The Get Down Stay Down. This story has a supernatural element to it, which is odd since I enjoy writing realistic stories. But this was based on a dream and I tweaked it. They'll be some humor, hopefully everything will be in character. Rachel's made it on Broadway. Please review if you care to. Going through editing now so if you've given this story a try-thank you.

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><p>There's always some reason why anyone would feel alone in New York, the city that never sleeps. She couldn't see why it wouldn't be inevitable anywhere else, no matter how large the city. Everyone keeps to themselves; no one allows others to see their true motives, thoughts, and feelings, if they had them, unless they'd known them for years. It becomes second nature for people to be defensive and guard their minds and hearts. Self-preservation can do that.<p>

For some odd misunderstanding she kept coming back to this certain diner with its bare walls and its almost boring aesthetics, but it was comforting. There wasn't anything special about it, it didn't have any charm, and really-it was a hole in the wall without having any perks. Maybe she liked the simplicity.

On a plus side there weren't a lot of people who came there so it was usually quiet.

Right now its eight o'clock in the morning and it should have been busy, if it were a Starbucks with their typical, generic attempt at seeming homey, but still having that corporate vibe. Thankfully it was relaxing which was wonderfully ideal since she hadn't gone to sleep yet knowing that she wouldn't have to work and that the insomnia wasn't about to wear off, sadly that wasn't out of character.

After college she found herself a small apartment and decided to do easy work before throwing herself into the competative world of job searching. She'd had her share of being cut throat in high school after the cheerleading from hell. Quinn wanted a break, a pause on her life to take in the beautiful things in life instead of letting them float by or get weighted down by the monotony of everyday activities.

She looked into the long mirror that was placed on the wall in front of her noticing how pale she looked and with her long hair that had soft curls that were typically parted to the side it made the contrast of her eyes stand out even more against her black shirt. She gazed at herself a little longer trying to decide what she could do to make myself not look so exhausted, but decided that it was a pointless notion to keep mulling over. Really she just looked like an average person who was tired, which was the point because usually she had this dark aura around her as one Brittany S. Pierce pointed out after she had graduated. College and New York had hardened Quinn a little. In high school most of the class wanted her, the ice queen act was alluring to most and it hadn't exactly thawed over time, though maybe she had become a little more mysterious in reaction.

Santana with her brutal honesty and sometimes too intuitive, intelligent comments once said if she believed in vampires Quinn would be the ideal charming one, but without the Twilight crap. Then the Latina went on a mini tangent how anything that sparkles isn't badass and Stephanie Meyer should be slapped-with a two by four or a car. The conversation ended with Santana nodding to herself saying Buffy vampires were better, end of story. Shaking her head had been the only response seeing how they weren't in a debate, it was just her friend being her usual confrontational self until the tan woman looked at her like you better agree or at least comment. But Quinn was busy watching her friends interactions. Brittany and Santana had been together for years, they were the couple that would always be that couple she had decided. Like now, they were so in tune with one another that Quinn felt like the typical third wheel even as her snarky friend commented about her.

"Good to know," she had replied, recalling the memory but stood suddenly realizing she had to go walk a dog, a nice leisure job she enjoyed greatly even though she didn't need the money. After Russel Fabray's death her immediate family was shocked she and Frannie were given a large sum of money. Quinn safely assumed it was out of guilt or because he was a god fearing man that felt that he needed to make things right in any way he could. Never one to give affection, money was easiest for him to supply. However she didn't attend his funeral, classes (they were good for something) being an easy excuse to not have to go back to Lima.

Now she had a small but nice apartment she was living in. Alone. And she liked it that way, but the guilt money didn't push her to talk to the remainder of her family. Counting her blessings she considered the fact that she was lucky enough to have inherited a large sum and had invested some that grew with various businesses. She was able to have relaxed jobs and stay asleep until eight am. She had majored in interior design but after the economy took a sharp, downward turn she had little desire to find a job that paid dismall with long hours seeing how people weren't about to pay a designer to alter their homes. People were doing things themselves now and she had to do the same.

Finishing her coffee she got up, surprised to see the owner who rarely seemed to be in the shop and took a step towards the door, breathing in a deep breath to prepare myself for the loudness of the city when an intense migraine hit her making her grab the dull counter and return to a seat.

_This was the worst one yet,_ she thought in annoyance. _Should I go to the doctors? No, it's a waste of time. Should I call and cancel? No, it's a really sweet dog. _

Ever the stubborn girl she stood up again, slower, and headed towards the door. This time the blonde got a few steps until she had to quickly sit down in the comfy chair that was conveniently next to the door. She was almost asleep, the headaches always taking her energy, when a cold gust of wind breezed past her as a customer came in. She opened her eyes groggily and lifted her pale wrist to chest level.

_I'm going to be late. As much as this job isn't necessary in terms of having a huge load of responsibility I still have standards_.

Trying to rise from the chair again a sharp pain hit her temples causing everything to lose focus and then the room was becoming blurred. It was too surreal, it was nothing like the time when she almost fainted in high school from not eating and doing too much cheerleading.

One of the last thoughts was how blackness closing in was a cliche. Her head snapped up, more alert as she heard a commotion and some shocked screams or gasps as crashing dishes and silverware clammered dramatically to the floor.

When she started to wake up she didn't realize where she was. _This doesn't look like my apartment but it looks familiar. _She started to lift her head and then rotate her neck from side to side to see if anything was off. Relieved, she let out a sigh but feel the migraine slip back into her building awareness. Quinn closed her eyes tightly once the little black dashes of blurred bits disappear and bright lights hung directly above her. The momentary blinding made her shut her eyes again.

On instinct she lifted her hand which she didn't realize felt bizarre. It felt heavier...not the same weight as it usually did…and then she saw her hand.

_It looks foreign and not as smooth…much bigger than usual. Maybe they're swollen, maybe…_but then she saw that she wasn't wearing what she was before._ Am I in a hospital? Did they take my clothes? _

She looked at her arms more and noticed how they weren't her arms, not at all…

Finally standing, shocking some of the people who were crowded around her, she looked around distractedly trying to find a mirror.

_I'm still in the coffee shop _she tried to rationalize, finding some comfort in anything routine, anything remotely around, knowing a mirror was there she saw it, more felt it before it sunk in that this was a twisted nightmare.

It made sense. She's spent years wishing she had a different life. That high school had been different. She still would have had...Beth, but everything else she wanted a redo. Still her brain didn't catch up to her eyes as she touched her face. An almost scruffy face that looked tired with small circles under blue eyes. And as she took a step closer she slowly realize that she knew this face.

_It's…god what's his name? I don't pay attention enough. He's rarely here..come on...Chuck..no..mmm...Charles...no...Charlie! The guy who owns the coffee shop. Why am I…is this a dream? What is fucking going on, this isn't possible. And I'm allowed to curse. This is fucking insane!_

Not knowing how to put it all together Quinn ran her shaking hands through her hair and took a sharp breathe of air as she took her hand away from her head and looked at her fingertips. There's a little blood on them. That hadn't scared her though, she was still too shocked.

_This isn't possible. Its just not possible. Where am I? Oh my god, really where am I? Where's my body?_ She quickly glanced around the room and saw people still staring at her worried.

"I'm fine…I just…has anyone seen a woman sitting in that chair," she said pointing to the chair she knew she was sitting in before...

_I was just there. Me...this is...is this what an out of body experience feels like? No..people are floating..right?_

A few people shook their heads and one person, sitting next to the chair, in another large oversized seat said, "Yeah, she left about ten minutes ago. She was really freaked out…but she didn't say anything and everyone was busy attempting to wake you" the nice man said in a confused rush as he looked at the chair briefly. "Oh, but she left this," he continued and grabbed the bag, Quinn's bag, her bag.

"Oh... great," Quinn said, taking it, hearing herself with a masculine voice adding a thank you while trying to understand that the voice wasn't in her mind. Manners, luckily were still reflex and heavily ingrained. "I'll be sure to give it back to her if she comes in again," and before she could finish the sentence the man just nodded and sat back down. Typical New York-blase and not able to be shocked.

Someone else looked at Quinn intently, more honed in than the others, someone in an apron and asked, "Man are you ok, you took a really hard fall."

Eyebrows came together as she looked at him with confusion,_ I don't know him but…oh! He works here_.

"Uh yeah…I think I.." she said trailing off.

"Hey, go lie down upstairs, I can clean this up, no problem," he said taking her by a shoulder and leading her towards the back door behind a corner of the shop that was well hidden. "Clean yourself up and come down if you want to close up," he said considerately. Quinn looked at him then, his entire face, instead of just letting him lead her to the door. He looked around twenty-five but still young with a laid back tone. Her head nodded to him, unable to form words, the shock slowly wearing off as she took the door handle, feeling its solidity, that it wasn't a nightmare. Again the headache was building. _Oh! _

"Ah…would you mind putting the bag somewhere hidden behind the counter?" She asked exhausted, not feeling up to carry anything, only making her feel more pathetic and overwhelmed knowing she couldn't hold herself together in public.

"Sure, boss," he replied with a light joking tone and then took a step back to let Charlie open the door and head up the stairs. She closed the door quietly behind herself, not knowing if loud noises would make the pain increase. Taking a deep breath wasn't enough. Assessing the situation and how insane it was she made the journey slowly upstairs, absorbing how the lighting was low and the stairs looked at though they had been worn out only made her more weary. Reaching the top that felt like a damn hike, her thoughts became more confused and layered as she opened the door. Standing in the door way, taking in the the surroundings she felt unable to move.

_This is a typical bachelor loft. Jesus._

She brushed the large hand through hair again hitting the gash, having forgotten it was there and let out a small, painful gasp. She walked over to the kitchen which was only about fifteen feet away and officially considered it a studio. Glancing around Quinn found clean paper towels and wet some under the faucet while noticing again how foreign the hands and body movements were. Hell, they were hard not to notice.

Finally once she was slightly calmed, likely due to the running water, she brought the towel to the gash to take the blood away. Once that was over she completely looked around the place and noticed the couch. _It looks surprisingly clean, considering the dust and papers thrown carelessly around the place… but I have to lie down._

After she threw the towel away, finding the trash in the corner, out in the open, and overflowingm of course, she grunted when a few objects fell out but didn't have the mind to care.

_I need ..I need to figure this out. Where am I? Me...My body?_


	2. Chapter 2

God the couch was comfortable and in minutes she fell asleep. Even with all the thoughts knocking around in her head and from being overwhelmed from the tiredness that miraculously dulled the pain she was out for hours. When she woke up again disoriented and dazed, feeling a déjà vu, she glanced around the room in confusion that quickly turned into annoyance after it sunk in slowly that it was real and that Quinn needed to do many things to ensure that she would find her body; not even trying to think how exactly she was going to be able to get back into it.

_It shouldn't be that hard,_ _think rationally_, she kept reminding herself over and over, the phrase almost becoming a personal mantra. _Ok…so I need to stay here…see if he comes back, I'm sure he's just as overwhelmed as I am, I need to keep the coffee shop open, not have a nervous breakdown, not tell anyone about this before they send me to a mental institution, I need to clean this place if I'm going to stay here, I need to talk to someone before I go out of my mind, I need a shower._

At that last thought the now taller girl decided to get off the couch and take a tour of the loft. A very brief tour considering it was smaller than her apartment. To the right around a corner was the bedroom. To the left of that was a decent sized shower that was sparse and dull, back from where she had come from was the living room that was crowded and seemed small she did a three sixty turn and let her shoulders drop. It was smaller than her place, smelled like a guy and unnerved her. It was messy. Something she couldn't stand. At least she had emailed everyone that employed her to walk their dogs from the crappy computer he kept on the kitchen table. It was slow but she felt better, even through the lies that a family issue had come up and she was going out of town and she apologized in a professional way for not being able to care for their wonderful animals. That part wasn't a lie. Growing up she never had pets. Her father deemed them too tedious and dirty, her mother added her two cents, agreeing in her own way that they had white carpeting and animals would ruin the house, but all the dogs she walked were sweet and sometimes she felt animals were simply better than people. Sadly her parents' standards of clean rubbed off on her, but really Quinn just didn't want to be yelled at or hear a lecture.

Santana had once mocked her that she was secretly related to Emma Pilsbury in high school when Quinn had spend a half hour cleaning her already neat room. What she wouldn't give to be back in her own body, to feel comfortable and not here. Looking over the place again she gazed directly across the living room and into the kitchen which was connected and small. Inside the room was a wooden table with wrappers and trash all over it. At least there were windows throughout the place with its warm light coming in that allowed the place to seem more welcoming than it was after you gave it a second glance. She sighed again, feeling heavy with all the responsibilities, taking care of a shop, being here, basically confined in a prison…

Speaking of responsibilities_ I need to go and contact all the people about walking their dogs…wonderful_, she added sarcastically.

Hopping in the shower after thoughts started to wander after clothes had been discarded in haste she felt some tension roll away. The warmth was a sort of comfort. Deciding to wash her hair, her new hair, she made sure to avoid the gash. With her eyes clothes she refused to look down.

Honestly she couldn't remember the last time she saw a naked guy before, but when she had briefly stood in front of the mirror in the black boxer briefs she was reminded of Finn Hudson. The body seemed similar, lacking muscles, on the soft side and a little pudgy.

"Ugh," she had grumbled, closed her eyes and tilted her head to the ceiling. If there was a god this was cruel punishment. To say it was also unusual seemed overly redundant. But standing in the underwear she looked over the body, purposefully not becoming too comfortable with checking everything over. In the shower she avoided certain body parts all together and decided to check on her arms and stomach, places she worked on in her real body.

After years of cheerleading in school, athletics in middle school and rigorous workout at the gym during college, though she didn't join teams she decided the arms were okay but might need to lift weights. She laughed outwardly, it was bitter. All of these thoughts were an attempt at keeping her sanity. Distracting myself against the idea that she'd never get my body back and she'd be trapped here. J

Just quickly considering it made something in her chest close up and she felt like gasping for air. _Okay…change of topic…just wash my hair, that's normal, its natural to wash hair, second nature, I can handle this. _

Minutes later after it had calmed her down and the water started to become cold she figured it was time to get out. Slowly stepping out of the shower, becoming a little paranoid that she'd slip and fall, she wrapped the towel around herself and looked in the mirror again.

_Its official, I'm a masochist. This is a train wreck, my life is a train wreck and I can't look away. It's a bad horror movie._

The towel was around her chest and hanging around her, making it look odd. Hating to admit it she let it drop and wrapped it around the waist and then critiqued the stomach again.

_It needs a bit of work, nothing eating healthy couldn't fix. God even in another body you're a critical bitch._

Trying to stop berating everything she dried off in a hurry and stared at the reflection which looked back like a stranger looking at another person with slight curiosity at why they're being stared at. She frowned and noticed a shave was needed.

_Obviously I've never shaved before but the commercials seemed like it was easy and that was enough direction…_

Glancing around again and opening up a cupboard she found what she was hoping for.

First Quinn washed my face with warm water opening up the pores, thinking it would be easier on my skin and then she put the shaving cream on that had a pleasant cooling feel. The reflection practically mocked her, smirking as she grabbed the razor, turning it over in my hand a few times and lightly chuckled on how oddly comical this was.

"You can do this, you need to do this Quinn." She mumbled out loud. Right before she was about to bring the razor against the skin she halted, eyes widening at the realization.

_Fuck, Quinn's a guy's name. Charlie…Charlie's a nickname for a girl sometimes..right? Charlotte…what the hell. This is like that movie…Freaky Friday. Is it even a Friday? What the hell does it matter, you're losing your damn mind!_ _You're about to have a panic attack, you've never had one before so calm down. _Consciously she started to breathe; in through the nose, out the mouth.

Minutes later after she was calmer, but not calm she had shaved and her hair was half dry standing all over the place, confused on where to go or whether to be a cross between laid back long or mullet.

Shaking her head Quinn busied herself but putting on some clean clothes and contently found a black t-shirt. _I didn't have to dress exactly like him_ she figured as she moved around the loft and went through more drawers and finally found a pair of scissors. Opening and closing them a few times she concluded they were sharp enough went back into the bathroom. Starring at the stranger again Quinn grabbed anything that would comb out the random tangles and swiftly went through the hair. Again, picking up the scissor and began to cut the hair, making sure it was choppy but evenly symmetrical on both sides.

Ten minutes later she stopped and as a finishing touch parted the hair to the side and let a few strands fall before the blue-ish eyes. _Not bad, could have been worse._ With that thought she cleaned up the bathroom, put on a pair of shoes and headed downstairs. Noticing that the headache was completely gone she smiled and thought to herself- _that shower was exactly what I needed _as she grabbed onto the downstairs door handle and made her entrance.

Quinn went to the counter and grabbed the bag out from below the guy who had helped before said in confusion, "Sir, we don't allow customers back here."

Turning around smiling at him, a small, barely there grin just to say hey, no problem. She still didn't know his name and wasn't sure what to say. "Oh hey man, wow, that rest did you some good. How's your head?" he asked sincerely.

"I'll live," said in indifference. He smiled slightly, he looked tired and she felt more awake with the rest and shower so it seemed fair as she considered it. "Hey, why don't you go home, I'll close early, you've been here all day." The worker smiled more.

"Yeah, that'd be great." He said as he took off his apron. Quinn was glad and had taken the wallet out of her bag without him noticing while he cleaned the counter. Holding out a fifty for him he frowned.

"This is separate from your pay, a tip" she added. He said thanks with a frown and headed out. Now there was only one more person in the shop and as she looked over the place and became lost in thoughts. Twenty minutes had passed when she looked at the clock. Looking around again she finally realized the guy was gone and went over to the door, closed it and turned over the sign that said, Sorry, we're closed. Pivoting around a sigh escaped as she placed masculine hands in the back jean pockets and looked around again trying to decide what to do. The lack of action was also going to drive her up a wall, bare walls that she would be stuck in. Too deep in thought she went to the phone, the ringing halting her inner battle, disrupting her from the various digressions. On reflex she picked it out of the bag and accepted the call.

"Hello," she said forgetting it wasn't my voice.

"Must have the wrong number," a familiar voice said.

"Santana," she said quickly to make sure she wouldn't hang up the phone which the lawyer was prone to doing when she knows it's pointless to get into a conversation, being that the woman was always busy or distracted by Brittany.

"Yes," she said questioning, unsure and with the hint of impatience.

"Santana, I'll explain it in a while, come to the coffee shop at 35th and 4th street, you know the barren walls one."

"Who is this," she asked with a bit of edge.

"San, I said I'd explain, come over and it'll be sorted out." Quinn said calmly. All of the people she could trust it was Santana oddly enough and she wouldn't her. That was even more peculiar. After high school they had grown closer, their competitive edge stopped since they didn't care about cheerleading and with the help of New York City, both women embraced their sexuality. Of course their styles were polar opposites. Santana went to bars with Britt and danced like they were having sex, clearly it was freeing for the brunette. The Head Bitch In Charge dropped that attitude and instead would smile at people, never approach them, but she would flirt with women she found attractive if they started a conversation. Britt also seemed to love the lawyer more, if that were possible, but Quinn figured the dancer was waiting for Santana to love herself too. Unlike the always feisty Latina, Britt was more laid back about pushing Quinn to date, in fact she sat back and listened more rather than shoving a shot in her face as the tanned woman did.

"I don't know you." She finally said.

"Yes you do," she stated nonchalantly, knowing they had plenty of history and then continued, "I'll pay you," she said with a light, joking tone. This was after all, their joke. She and Santana both knew they we were set financially and successful in their own ways. She was a lawyer sometimes Quinn would take a high end job to design someone's apartment. It wasn't steady, it was all under the table but she lived comfortably.

"Okay," she replied seriously and she could see the gears working in her head, "I'll be there in fifteen" and with that she cut off the phone. During those ten minutes Quinn cleaned the counters and rearranged some tables and chair so that the place was more open. Once she was happy there was a whole section where she imagined a couch and a nice low table. These thoughts again were keeping her sane, being fixed on a project was a survival technique her brain was using as a defense for her to stop from jumping off a building. Deep in thought she was startled when there was a knock at the door. Rushing over and quickly opening the door to a confused looking Santana who had her eyebrows lifted in peeked interest.

"Come on in," Quinn said calmly although she was incredibly anxious. Santana walked in hesitantly, back stiff and took a seat near the door. "Ah, do you want anything?" the former head cheerleader asked uncertain.

"No, I want to get to the point of all of this and end this confusion, even if you're nice to look at." So typical of her, she just can't leave the lawyer mentality at the office. Quinn knew Santana was gay and was a one woman kind of person but old habits die hard, she'd witnessed the Latina flirting with anyone she wanted anyway.

"Alright…this is going to sound insane," she began crossing her arms in front of the broad chest that still felt odd, "but…I'm Quinn." she finished. The tanned woman stared at her blankly. "I can prove it," I say quickly. "Ah…oh okay...okay-the only girl who ever beat you up was Lauren Zizes, you became a lawyer because you love to argue with people but mostly because Britt said you should wear power suits more often, you think it's annoying that I can listen to a song on repeat for over an hour, I dog walk, I hate psychologists, I despise the color orange, nearly all of my clothes are neutral colors, if you want to go farther back we were cheerleaders, you've been with Britt for years" she finished but frowned, not knowing if that was enough. Meeting her eyes and looking over her face she noticed her mouth was open. "For once Santana Lopez is speechless. Someone needs to make the date." She tried to joke. Santana still stood there, eyes large. Jokingly Quinn placed her hand below the woman's chin and closed her mouth slowly. Santana swallowed and frowned more.

"What the hell," she finally stated and shook her head then slapped Quinn, not hard, but it still hurt.

"Santana!" Quinn yelled.

"Before you started talking I was wondering what you'd be like in bed," she explained as she crossed her arms over her own chest.

"Aww gross San. You're gay, why would you want to sleep with a guy?"

"I didn't know it was you. Besides, it's a question that usually pops into my head when I meet someone, its how I'm wired, doesn't mean I wants to sleep with guys, no reason when I've got Britts. Ugh, but now I have to go see a psychologist or get shock therapy." She said trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe we can have a joined session," Quinn said shaking her head. For a few minutes they starred at each other, then the floor, then the walls. Quinn's legs got tired and decided to sit across from her and wait for Santana to say something else.

"So…you're Quinn. Alright, how did this happen?" she asked with a serious tone.

"I have no idea. I was sitting here at the counter earlier this morning and then this headache just hit me and before I could make it out the door there was some crashing and then I passed out. When I woke up I was behind the counter in this body and my body was gone. Charlie must have been freaked out and couldn't handle it, I don't know." I said trying to remain calm.

"Who's Charlie," she finally asked after a few seconds of silence.

"The guy that owns this place, you've seen him briefly but probably don't recognize the ah face…I cut his hair and shaved and everything." Santana lifted her eyebrows again at that.

"So you moved right into his body?" she asked in disbelief.

"No, I'm not. I just can't go looking for my body all over New York City. I figured the realistic thing to do was take a shower to get the blood out of my hair and then stay here in case he comes back." I said in a rush.

"Blood," Santana said in disbelief, though her voice was still calm, assessing the situation.

"Yeah…I guess he must have hit his head when he fell because I woke up with a massive headache and a gash."

"Let me see," she said as she got up from the chair. "You'll live," she said with her usual tone, calm but seemingly bored, though Quinn figured it was so Santana wouldn't flip and start screaming in Spanish as she tended to do when she got worked up.

"Okay," she said shifting into her lawyer mode, "what do you need?" she asked.

"One.. I need you to not tell anyone about this, except Britt, you can only tell her. Two, I need a few things from my apartment and I don't want to leave here in case he comes back. Three, I'm going to need you take out three thousand dollars from my account, if I'm going to stay here I need to keep busy. And four, if it's alright with you I want to know if I can depend on you to stay here for brief periods of time if I need to go out shopping or whatever for food, clothes…so that you can stop my body from leaving if it comes back." Quinn said counting everything out on her fingers. She considered this for a while, working through my requests, dark eyes narrowing, calculating everything.

"Alright," she said once she was set. Quinn let out a relaxed sigh and starred at her friend who was starring back with the same confused face as when she first got into the shop.

"I'm sorry to bring you into all of this I just didn't know who I could trust." she said tired of the explanations and situation and more than annoyed that she had to rely on someone. She never had. Even when she was pregnant, kicked out of her house she moved from one friend's house to the next, becoming a loner and handling everything else on her own.

"No, it's fine. Are you okay though?" She asked concerned, actual consideration coming through.

"Mhmm," she mumbled. "I just need your help with a few things tonight, if that's alright with you." She looked at her watch then.

"It's 11:30, this can wait for tomorrow, I have to be in court in the morning," she said in an indifferent voice at the situation, blasé and aloof.

"Santana!" Quinn exclaimed in disbelief.

"I'll help on one condition," she said in a commanding tone leaving the former blonde to raise eyebrows.

"You have to accept it when I call you butch now," she said with a slightly amused tone, this was all too reminiscent of playing poker, something Quinn didn't do or like to partake in. Santana had always loved to say she was butch, having heard Sam and Finn discuss how she was a top, but Quinn had rolled her eyes, she had more dresses than Santana, but the Latina still enjoyed her jibes.

"A world of no," the taller of the two said seriously. Almost through clenched teeth. Santana shrugged and turned to the door.

"Worth a shot," she says as she grabbed the door and opened it, leaving smoothly.

"Are you coming?" She said turning back to Quinn. "We're going to your apartment, right? To get your things." She said with an air of impatience. The interior designer stood in shock.

"Jesus Christ" she said while stepping onto the street with her and head to the apartment. They walked in silence but it isn't awkward.

Once the girls got to Quinn's place and rode the elevator up she puts her hand on my forearm and squeezed it gently, never one for physical affection unless it was directed towards one Brittany S. Pierce, Quinn looked up from the floor in surprise, "you're handling this well, considering," Santana said with warmth.

"Thanks, I didn't think...I just needed to call you," she replied though it came out as a mumble, annoyed that she couldn't handle the situation myself and not burden Santana as she gripped the keys. Santana offered a small smile and Quinn smiled back, happy that we're on the same friendship wavelength.

They entered into the apartment and began to gather all of her essentials. Soap, shampoo, some clothes that would fit, too big t-shirts that would now fit fine, sweaters mostly, cell phone charger, I-pod and all the things that came with it, some books, a fan, socks, pillow, a soft throw blanket, computer, vitamins, muscle relaxers, some small framed art and a few plants so they wouldn't die. Quinn gave Santana all the light items and headed back down to the coffee shop. They had their hands and arms full but it wasn't a lot. Luckily they stopped by an ATM while on the way. Quinn happily got out the money she needed to keep herself occupied and then unlocked the door to head into the upstairs loft. Santana followed silently taking in all the surroundings. When she was fully in the room and the items were set on the floor and couch she gasped.

"This place looks awful. I'm talking a hurricane hit it. You're going to need a lot of time and creativity to make this place look anything like your apartment."

"True, thanks for pointing out the obvious." Quinn replied being a smart ass. She glared at the former blonde and I grabbed hold of her wrist to check her watch. It was almost 1 o'clock. Immediately Quinn felt guilty.

"Oh I'm sorry, you need to get home, I'll walk you out." And they headed to the stairs.

Moments later Quinn hailed her a cab and gave her a quick hug. Feeling a little awkward at the embrace but needed it."Thanks."

"Call me tomorrow," Santana said simply as she closed the door and headed home.

Once alone Quinn went back upstairs after closing the shop and looked around the dull loft. She sighed and decided to look for some cleaning supplies. Thankfully she found a broom, a garbage container, some wood solution for the floors, which frankly needed work and started to go through all the papers, tossing them away in what would be recycling and making a neat pile of those she thought he might want.

Ten minutes of that went by and she put the remaining papers in a closet which was bare except for one dusty spiders web that she cleaned up and threw out, sneezing in the process. Then she cleared the kitchen and moved around a couple of items to make more room on the counter. Another ten minutes had passed. She went over to the windowsill and began to scrub at the dust that had made a layer. Rolling up the blinds she looked out into the city lights.

_It must be at least 1:40, __oh insomnia is really helping me right now_. And with that thought she went through the refrigerator and cleaned that out. She put the beer in the back and threw out the meat that was close to being expired and rearranged everything so it made sense to her, drinks on one self, the small bit of vegetables that were there went on another shelf and so on. Fifteen minutes of that passed and then she decided to move the kitchen table to another part of the open loft and move the couch and small table that was meant to be a coffee table near the side of the bed after she moved the bed to the corner so that there was more space and moved a mirror to be right near the door so that light reflected off of it from the window allowing the place to be warmer in the day. It was easier to clean and organize and get rid of the dullness to make way for something better. In a way it was cleansing.

Then she moved a dresser and put the TV in the corner of the room so that it wasn't noticeable even though it was previously the focus of the room. Finally after forty minutes of moving everything around which made her muscles start to hurt she grabbed some objects that were brought over from the apartment and started to put them in various places. The pillow on the bed, the throw on the couch, the art on one wall so it looked orderly, plants on the windowsill, the bathroom items away, sweaters hung up and the I-pod and cell phone on the dresser. Finally on a whim she decided take a muscle relaxer and slowly began to feel its effects as she opened another closet and looked inside. There were ten pound dumbbells at the bottom, never used towels, and a few small, white, square shaped candles. The candles seemed out of place, making her frown but she got all of the items out. The weights will be good to release the tension tomorrow, the candles would give a nice touch and the towels were much needed she thought as she threw out the old ones and hung up the unused ones.

Lastly she placed the fan near the bed and couldn't help but smile as she looked over the entire loft. It looked completely different, bigger, cleaner, more modern and less chaotic. It's great that she wanted to be an interior designer because Santana would never believe this. As Quinn too away the full garbage bags she remembered her bag downstairs and ran down to go get it. A sneeze escaped as she ran back upstairs and mumbled under her breath, annoyed that she still had to clean She took the broom and swept the stairs and even polished them afterwards. Her movements becoming slower as the pills really settled in. Looking them over she didn't think the stairs could be improved upon with all of the scratches and old look to them but they changed into a surprisingly nice old fashioned aesthetic once all the dirt and cobwebs were gone.

Back upstairs she looked around again, content with how it had been transformed and decided to go to bed. It was almost 3:30 AM and she was almost on the verge of passing out with the help of the little pills she had taken earlier. Before succumbing to sleep she set the alarm for 8:30 AM and turned on the fan, becoming soothed by the noise. She thought there was no need to wake that early to allow people to continue their caffeine addictions and then I literally passed out once her head hit the familiar pillow.

Groggily she woke to the sound of an overly obnoxious noise and immediately tried to turn off the alarm once she got over the shock of not being in her apartment and being in another body. The very tired woman went to the bathroom once she was fully awake and joints were cracked. Reaching for her toothbrush she was reminded that Santana was always the logical one, had remembered to pack her toothbrush, toothpaste and deodorant. After her teeth were clean she got in the shower for a quick scrub, but again avoided looking over the body for a long period of time. By the time she got out it was only 8:45 and so she got dressed in record timing and decided to go grocery shopping around the corner at an organic shop.

When she got back after making a quick stop to an art store to get colored paper, tacks, fun, artsy magnets and a calligraphy marker she headed back with overflowing bags of groceries. Placing all the items on the coffee shop counter, various mini quiches, small sandwiches, organic sodas and juices, fuji water, cans of corn into the cupboards, no salt added, fresh cheeses, pastries, muffins, butter, eggs, and spices all went where they needed to go. Then she went upstairs and put some turkey, veggie chips, meat, bread, etc into the fridge and headed back downstairs after she had grabbed her computer.

Everything was put away and so I decided to go to work on the art projects as the computer loaded and connected to the internet. After making a neat sign in calligraphy and put it on the door-temporarily closed for renovations she made a new, large menu with many options with colored paper and posted them above the counter. Then she checked her email and was shocked to see how most of the clients wised her well and said they would miss her. That only took fifteen minutes, by then it was almost ten AM and so she decided to call some acquaintances to see if they could put some art from up as a bit of advertisement since they were unknown artists and also if they could get anyone with unique, edgy looking tables.

_If I'm going to be here for a while I can't stand to look at blank walls._ _It was ok being a customer and coming here for brief periods but if I'm going to run this place for a while some things need to change._ It was a relief to get into business mode while the calls took an hour to arrange everything after she told them it was Quinn's recommendation. It was an easy lie and she was surprised by how willing people were when she offered she was doing this for her because she was an investor in the coffee shop.

Everyone accepted it and soon enough Quinn had nearly twelve people coming in and out of the place with art, colorful plants, small but cool tables, mismatching chairs, which she loved instantly and some free items such as bits of art they didn't really love but she found interesting, deciding to put all the art together on one wall like a mural. Everything was off the record so she was ecstatic at how she still had nine hundred dollars left from her three thousand and that included all the tips she gave them.

Some even helped her move a few tables as they moved them to the curb. Oddly all of them were girls and they kept saying they were happy to help. The tables they moved were old and beaten with stains on them and she could have hired someone to revive them with a lot of sanding and staining but figured someone could have them if they wanted. Quinn was just too impatient to put that much work into it and she didn't want to have the place be closed for any longer. All of this took three hours to accomplish and so by then it was 1:20 and she looked up at the clock noticing how grimy it looked and out dated so she called another acquaintance who worked at a home deco store similar to pottery barn and asked for him to bring a modern wall clock and six hanging lamps that would work well in a coffee shop, trusting his judgment and smirked knowing most gay men knew how to make someone look better. He took the notes down, often saying mhm and hung up the phone, ready to deliver within the next few hours. Then she called an electrician and asked if one was available today. He said yes, he could be over in twenty minutes. _Perfect_ she thought and then talked more but briefly and then decided to head to an ATM.

It was only a walk around the block but it was nice to be outside. Getting out a thousand and heading back she breathed in the city air. It was nothing like Lima, but that's what she loved about it. Back inside she made a new sign that said the hours of operation from 9 am to 8 pm Monday through Thursdays and 9 am until 10 pm Friday through Sunday. This took a total of fifteen minutes to make everything look professional and as she posted it the electrician showed, quickly getting to work after going through what she wanted. She started telling him all the lights needed to be removed. He looked at them and then went back to his truck to get a ladder and a few papers to explain the cost. It was surprisingly cheap and she signed the papers. Then he started on taking down the lights and Quinn went back behind the counter and began to move around some bagels, muffins, sandwiches in the glass display. Another forty-five minutes passed and she was starting to feel hungry. Looking through the cupboards she found a frying pan, some pam and a few spices. Turning on the stove she was amazed at how a coffee shop would have a kitchen and began to make an egg, realizing she never noticed the stove all the times she'd come here.

Feeling selfish she asked if the electrician wanted a sandwich or anything. He came over happily and picked out a sandwich and asked how much.

"It's free today," she said with a light smile, he thanked her and went back to the lights. Turning back to the egg she put some cheese on it and flipped it. Grabbing two slices of bread and some smart balance butter everything was ready and she sat at the counter and ate contently, enjoying every bite as everyone seemed busy, some enjoying snacks that she offered them. A few minutes later the home décor guy showed with a receipt and a smile saying he was happy to take off work.

"Thanks a lot, this is just what I need." I said with her usual small smile, looking over everything he brought and then offered him a water, which he took and thanked her for. Looking at the paperwork it only came to two hundred and fifty dollars so I gave him three hundred. Not realizing her as Quinn of course, but knowing what style she liked, the former HBIC gave him extra cash and then he headed back to work after his long lunch break. The electrician came over then and asked if these were the lights, with a nod she sat in the oversized chair.

"Alright then, this'll be easy." He said more to himself. It only took the guy thirty minutes to put everything together, he worked really quickly and once he was finished and had left after being paid the bill Quinn was momentarily overwhelmed as she looked around and again noticed how different it was. It had the same feel as the loft upstairs with the whole transformation. Breathing deep she placed the plants on the windowsill admiring how the person she trusted had picked the plants well with their black, classic looking pots. Next she took the old clock down and put up the new, cleaner one. Lastly all the art was hung and she pulled out her phone to call Santana.

It was five o'clock and she always left early, it didn't matter she had a great reputation for winning her cases so she said happily said back to me, "Hi, surviving?"

"I'm keeping busy, trying to breathe. I was wondering if you wanted to come over and maybe critique the changes I made." Quinn said unable to hide the excitement. This was a massive project and it was done quickly.

"No problem, I'll be there in...oh twenty. You want anything while I'm heading through the market," she asked.

"Hm, could you pick me up a bunch of carrots?"

"Will do and hey, has yourself or more accurately you body shown up yet?" she asked with curiosity.

"No. " _What if he never came back? What if he decided he could start a new life or what if he's locked in an insane asylum or dead on the side of the street.?_ Quinn started to panic but Santana's voice kept coming through the phone.

"Q, Quinn!" she nearly screamed.

"Yeah," she asked morosely.

"It'll be okay," she replied and then we said goodbye, see you soon. In those twenty minutes Quinn washed the dishes and cleaned the counter, again, taking note of her OCD and sat down to rub her temples. She was almost asleep when there was a knock at the door. Getting up in a slow manner and greeting Santana who looked shocked and somewhat speechless.

"Well I must say you should have go professional with your interior design, this is great, my god you could have made a real profit." She said her eyes slowly sweeping across the room, too amazed to stop the compliment from coming out.

"Thanks..hey do you want anything," the taller person asked as she pointed over to the kitchen with her thumb.

"No, I'm fine," she said raising her half eaten bagel in her hand, likely from her favorite bagel place near the fashion institute, "but next time." She added.

Quinn nodded tiredly and took a seat in the comfy chairs that were kept. The lawyer took her seat as well and still continued to look around the place. "This really is something, you even changed the menu," she said in disbelief. "How long do you think you'll be staying here?" she asked carefully.

"As long as it takes him to come back with my body," she stated without emotion and glanced outside hoping that he'd be there but it was an old woman walking her small dog. She looked back at Santana. "Hey, did you bring some carrots." She ask happily, accepting the distraction. A slim hand reached into a bag and pulled out a small bag of baby carrots and playfully threw it at Quinn.

"Only you would request carrots." She said with familiar disbelief.

"This vampire needs all the night vision I can get," the rather geeky of the two reply happily and then opened the bag and start eating a few. The body responding to the freshness of them and then she remember… "Would you mind coming with me to Target or something to help me pick out some plates, cups and random bits of fun," she ask playfully, already knowing Santana never turned down shopping unless, as she remembered how her friend put it, "it got in the way of sexy times."

"Yeah, yeah," she said pretending to be bored, "let's go," came the usual command as she got up from the chair and Quinn headed back to the kitchen to put the carrots in the fridge. While theey wandered Quinn got about forty cups and forty plates along with some graham cracker cookies, liquid chocolate, godiva chocolate, whipped cream and some salt and pepper shaker that actually said salt and pepper along with other little spice holders that had nutmeg, cinnamon and chocolate in them from a small venue on the way back to the shop. They stopped at an ice cream parlor to get some mint chocolate chip, peppermint and French vanilla ice cream knowing that fall was settling into the city. And Quinn bought Santana an icecream cone-death by chocolate, though she knew something stronger than chocolate would have to kill the Latina. The only thing that could ever put a dent in the woman's armor was Brittany, but luckily for the feisty lawyer, they knew Britt would never intentionally hurt her.

On the way back Santana asked, "How much money have you put into the place," leaving Quinn to consider it…

"About two thousand, five hundred," she replied honestly.

"Are you expecting a profit back?" She wondered.

"No, I'm just doing it for fun and to keep myself busy from losing it," and shifted the weight of all the bags as the shorter woman opened the door to the coffee shop for her because again Quinn gave her the lightest bags. They were silent as they put everything away after she washed them, the masculine hands becoming softer through the soap bubbles. Or more accurately as Santana watched from her seat on the counter, eating her icecream contently, making small moans. Quinn took off the stickers to the cups and plates and I put the spices on a nearby table for people to do for themselves. It didn't take long until everything was completely finished. She sat in the chair and rolled her neck, hearing the pops as the joints moved around. Santana had to fight a cringe, having always hated when Quinn did that even in cheerleading. Both sighed and looked around noticing everything was clean. The Latina had sighed from her sugar high and Quinn had let out an almost calming breath realizing she had made the place her own and now had nothing to do except run the place, which was completely uncharted territory. But considering she could handle a body switch, she figured she could take on a small coffee shop. Still, she needed to keep busy.

"Do you want to check out the upstairs," she asked her long time friend.

"Why not, I can't imagine it looking worse than this dump," she said joking as she waved her arms around the room making Quinn almost smile as they made the way to the back corner and up the stairs. Ever the smart-alec Santana said, "it looks clean already, I don't have to wear a gas mask," and then opened the door, walking in as though she owned the place.

Quinn moved to the side and let her in. The smaller of the two stood in the middle of the open somewhat studio apartment with her mouth dropped open and moved her hands to her hips. "Impressive." She finally stated. "Next time I move somewhere you're decorating it, maybe I'll move into a shack just to challenge you." She finished with raised eyebrows. The trapped girl smiled crookedly and sat on the couch but moved over allowing Santana room to sit too.

"Are you sure you're okay," she asked in all seriousness after taking a seat.

A deep breath filed her lungs, readying her for reply. "No. But I'll try." she said closing blue eyes tight imagining her mind and spirit, if there is such a thing floating out of this body and into her own. Her eyes opened as she felt the lawyer pull her into a tight hug. Quinn hugged her back, enjoying being comforted for once. She pulled back and even kissed the foreign forehead, a sign of affection she only did when Quinn was crying or in visible pain that couldn't be covered up. That was new, Santana only did that after she had knocked a guy out who was physically too aggressive once with Quinn at a bar, resulting in the former cheerleader from avoiding bars for months. Quinn smiled and said thank you with her eyes and looked beyond her. It was 10:30, Santana needed to go home because of her early meetings. Also they both needed to try to and get some sleep if she was going to wake at 7:45 and open the shop at 8.

"You have to go home San, but thanks for…running around with me." The undertone was clear-thanks for everything, but both were still too proud to ever lay everything out. Instead she stood up and headed towards the door, squeezing the smaller hand before she left.

"Before I forget-got ya something." She said as she shifted her purse from her shoulder and pulled out a new bottle of lotion. "Make em not rough, can't have you touching me with scales," she said with a smirk. "But if you need anything, you know to call me," she said with her head tilted to the side, then swiftly turned and headed towards the bottom of the stairs. Quinn nodded to her even though Santana couldn't see and closed the door.

Again they were outside and she hailed her a cab. Unfortunately she noticed the guy was checking her out, making it blatantly obvious as his eyes lingered over her friend's body. Her jaw tensed, Santana looked at her confused until the former girl whispered, "Come here," and she complied. Quinn hugged her around her small waist, feeling awkward, but knew guys responded to other guys. She'd seen displays of ape-like behavior throughout most of her life and whispered into her ear, "that guy's looking at you like a piece of meat so don't think anything of this," I said as I took her face in between my hands, glancing at the driver to make sure he was looking and softly kissed her on the lips. It wasn't at all romantic, but the driver wouldn't be able to tell. Santana didn't kiss back, thank god, Quinn thought, but her mission was accomplished.

She broke away and took in the woman's shock as the now coffee shop owner pulled away and then whispered, "you're overprotective sometimes," with narrowed eyes. It was true. Quinn during college had punched a guy, knocked him on his ass when he didn't get the hint to leave Britt alone and at the time Santana was in class. Quinn shrugged and watched Santana get in the cab as she starred at the driver, narrowing her eyes at him for a split second. Waving goodbye to Santana and headed back up the loft after taking down the closed for renovations sign.

Tomorrow was going to be very different.

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><p>Author's Note: Slow start, I know, but Rachel will pop in. Quinn just has to be her usual self and fixate on making things better so she's comfortable.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: This story is meant to just be fun and strange. This chapter could have been longer but there's work to go to and since I've never written a supernatural type story its a very different style from my usual. There's so much detail in this its a naturalism style writing. Review if you'd like, it would be appreciated.

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><p>And tomorrow was different. It was incredibly cold, there was a chill that no one anticipated and she wanted to stay in the shower forever but she had made obligation. Quickly she washed her face, brushed her teeth, got dressed in a comfy, dark grey sweater, headed downstairs, and flipping the sign over to Open. Breathing in deeply Quinn tried to prepare herself. Was this going to be her life now?<p>

Within five minutes a few people came in and ordered some coffee but then more people wandered in and got hot chocolate which she enjoyed making because she put it in the new glasses that had a saucer to go with it and then put liquid chocolate around the rim and lots of whipped cream on top, followed by little graham crackers around the cup, scattered on the saucer. Every time people ordered it they were surprised at what they received. They smiled, said thank you and commented on how nice the place looked. Others didn't say anything and only displayed their shock with wide eyes.

The day went by very quickly once Quinn had a cup of coffee herself. Soon the guy who helped her out when she had changed bodies came in and was in utter shock as he looked around. He walked slowly over to her and asked, "Did someone buy you out?"

"No, no, my friend felt like investing," she said casually in another white lie.

"Looks good," he said still looking around and then at the menus. He frowned and asked, "Since when do you cook?"

"Creative bursts can just happen," she said happily. "Hey, would you mind if you take over for a while, I'll be right back," she said taking a few steps away from behind the counter.

"Yeah, no problem," he said and took over the register. _I like this guy_ she considered, _he's laid back and a decent person, now all I have to do is find his name_.

Quinn made her way upstairs and tried to remember if she saw a sound system. She did, a dusty one in the closet with a tape player, but it was in good shape and it was actually brand new. She grabbed the I-pod, tape deck and then went to look through the papers she had organized yesterday. A few sheets after some letters she found out the guy's name on a pay roll stub.

"Parker," she said out loud reading it. He's twenty-two, based on this and Charlie's probably twenty-four. _He's pretty put together for his age_ she considered as she grabbed everything and headed back downstairs. Quinn plug in the player once she situated and tuned the I-pod to a playlist that had random songs from Cat Power, The Shins, Tegan and Sara, Ryan Adams, Florence and The Machine, Ingrid Michelson, Laura Marling, Rilo Kiley, Regina Spektor, Imogen Heap, The Beatles to Billie Holiday, Edith Piaf and other bands on. The songs smoothly flowed and had a nice range and she slowly turned it up making sure it didn't stop people from carrying on their conversations and went back to serving them.

One guy who came in very slowly and critically took in all the art, the items, the tables and even the music. Finally he came up to the counter after he'd taken a seat to write in his notebook. He ordered a small cup of coffee and a hot chocolate. Parker got his coffee and Quinn handled the hot chocolate doing the usual cookies, chocolate rim and lots of whipped cream topping. He tried not to look surprised as he took the hot chocolate and then turned back to his table. Taking his time and staying for a long while compared to the other customers and he even ordered food and went back to writing in his notebook.

Then Quinn noticed the tip jar and saw it was almost full, even with some five dollar bills. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. _This isn't so bad, it's actually enjoyable_ she said to herself as The Shins played in the background. Soon enough the day was almost over and everyone started to head out since it was almost 8 o'clock. As Quinn washed down the tables Parker stood and counts the tips.

"Wow, today was a really good day," he said interrupting her thoughts. She smiled and said over to him great with little energy. Then he opened the cash register and put the tips in. The former cheerleader went over to the music player and scroll through the I-pod choosing to play Modest Mouse and Parker perked up. "You listen to them too?"

"I like them, they're cynical but enjoyable," she said to him with a shrug and he looked at her confused. "Anything wrong," she asked him.

"No, you just look different," he said considering it, "kind of like, you look healthier or something, I don't really know," he said shrugging it off.

"Okay, well you can head out, I'm going to close up, see you tomorrow Parker," not sure what his hours were.

"Yeah, here's to hoping for another good day tomorrow, night," he said nicely as he shut the door behind him. After she brushed off the last table she went over and locked the door flipping it over to closed. Going over to the music player, grabbing the I-pod and heading upstairs she stripped out of her casual work clothes and changed into athletic clothes. Quickly putting on some trainers she rushed back downstairs, keys in hand, -pod connected so she could tune and went for a twenty minute run.

The process was needed, concentrating on breathing, letting her mind go, stress slip away, though not all the stress went away. She couldn't stop herself from being annoyed that she was still in a different body, that she was trapped and that she had to change her life completely. It was always jarring. Even running was a new experience. She wasn't as graceful or fluid as she had been in her body. It felt bulkier, but she knew that was because he was heavier and out of shape. At that thought she decided she'd run every night for the sake of sanity and being leaner. She had lost count of how often she bumped into things because the shoulders were wider. Constant motion was helping. She feared that if she slowed down she'd have an overdue breakdown. Even her sleep was dreamless the night before. She was exhausted but she had never hit REM sleep.

When she got back she was winded. She was shocked to see Santana with her arms crossed over her chest, standing with impatience dripping off her near the door.

"Hi," Quinn managed with her hands on her hips, taking in large gulps of city air.

"Your body language screams gay guy sometimes," the thin woman said with an arched eyebrow.

"Why are you here?" She asked, cutting to the chase as she unlocked the door.

"You didn't pick up your phone," she said with a small shrug as she walked in like she owned the place. "Make me a coffee would ya?" The fierce woman asked as she scrolled through her phone. Her actions making her seem as though she was born a New Yorker.

"Oh of course, I would love nothing else in my life."

"Drop the sarcasm, you can't pull it off. Also you're sweaty, take a shower. But after you make me my coffee," she said with her usual command. Leave it to Santana to not be sensitive about the situation, she didn't ask how Quinn was, though the care was evident since she was there, but she was her typical self. The former head cheerleader frowned, considering her friend's attitude and how it was constant. The only thing that changed over the years was their competitiveness. They had both mellowed, but it was comforting in a way that Santana was behaving as she always does.

"I thought you liked when I went for runs." She recalled how throughout college she and Britt had on more than one occasion propositioned her for a threesome in half seriousness. The first time she asked her jaw had fallen nearly to the floor and she had tripped on the rug. Brittany had smiled and said she looked good after a run and Santana had rolled her eyes, though agreed that women glistened and looked hot. Then she made a comment about Olivia Wilde being the only good thing on House years ago during a workout scene was hella awesome. The sweet dancer had agreed and kissed Santana on the cheek. Quinn tilted her head and thought her friends were the strangest, but most solid couple she knew.

"Guys are gross when they sweat, girls glisten. We've been over this. And where's be my coffee?" She said with her arms now crossed.

"Santana you're a lawyer now, talk professionally, I know you're capable of it."

"Sure thing, but this is my time and I do it just to annoy you."

"Well here's your coffee and now I'm going to take a shower so I stop being unintentionally gross," she mumbled the last part, it actually physical hurt her chest to acknowledge she was more of a guy than a girl. Even when she went to the bathroom she sat down. It was so odd but she had done that for over twenty years and wasn't about to change.

In only a few minutes she was showered and back downstairs.

"Did you stop by for anything besides free coffee?" She asked as she ran her fingers through the short hair. God she missed her hair, her head felt naked.

"Nail on the head. Free coffee," she said lifting the cup in a toast like gesture to Quinn, failing to give her real reason that she was worried about her friend.

"Well I'm tired, going to bed. You should bring Britt by sometime," she said as she made her way to the stairs.

"Later Blondie, get some real sleep cause ya look like hell," the thin girl said while she made her way out.

Turning back around she followed Santana out to lock the door. They were one for hugs, unless they were tipsy but Santana placed her hand on Quinn's shoulder and stepped out into the street. Words weren't needed between them. They were both so similar in many ways. Its why Santana came to Quinn when Britt would get annoyed at her and Santana didn't know why, leaving Quinn to break it down for her as they went to indulge in dessert at one of their favorite places.

Now she was back upstairs. The bed had been calling her. Settling in it only took her a few minutes to dream about being in her own body. She was woken by the sound of the ever so annoying alarm clock. With anger she shut it off and in a zombie like trance went to the bathroom to take a shower. She shampooed her hair and was happy to find out that the gash had healed completely. Luckily she turn off the water just as it started to become cold. Nearly falling as she headed downstairs, not being used to being awake that early as she flipped the sign to open, surprised to see a small line already forming. She opened the door and welcomed everyone in who smiled back at her, some of the girls giving flirtatious smiles.

Once behind the counter Quinn went over to the player, connected the I-pod and picked something calm, Imogen Heap followed by Max Avery and some Elliott Smith. Then she got into the process of running the shop as the aroma of coffee filled the air. Everyone patiently waited for her to make their requests and chat amongst one another. It's cold again so a lot of people asked for the hot chocolate and again the tip jar started to fill.

Around noon she was so excited to see Parker, exhausted from making people eggs and even second helpings. They chatted a bit and he looked around at all the people. She him a deal on the spot, he'd make all the drinks if she made the food and asked him if he could make the hot chocolate the way she'd been doing it. He said he's happy to do it and later he stated its fun but we're out of graham cracker cookies. Quinn caught every other word, they were slammed and she lifted her eyebrows and said, "give them a little ball of chocolate, you don't have to unroll it, it's just something extra like the cookies."

"Alright," he responded happily. Only a few food orders came in so Quinn took a break changing the music to something more upbeat and faster now that it hit the afternoon and settled on the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and some songs from Across The Universe soundtrack. Just as the music was about to start a newspaper was thrown in front of blue eyes.

"Look at that," Santana said excitedly. Quinn picked it up and turned around to face her. It's was New York Times article about…the shop. This show. The former dog walker turned coffee owner slowly read the food review that had a small picture of the guy who was at the shop yesterday. "Wonderland's is whimsical and creative with its well priced menu, artful décor, warm atmosphere and unique setting. If you can't bring yourself to go to a Starbucks because its typically predictable-go look into Wonderland's located at…and then Quinn stopped reading and looked into Santana's dark brown eyes who seemed playful. The Latina moved forward and lightly hugged Quinn saying into her ear, "Renamed the place and after your favorite book you geek."

Quinn smiled and said in a whisper after an eyeroll, "Thank you for bringing this, it explains the line that was forming this morning and why I'm so tired."

"Well this is perfect my precocious, little sister has decided to move into the city, with me," she says her voice raising at the last part, "and I need her out of the apartment as much as possible, so you can hire her." She said happily but another eyeroll crossed over Quinn's features.

"If she's anything like you-No," she said teasing and shook her head. "Okay, fine. Bring her in when you can and I'd greatly appreciate it, I think my insomnia may be disappearing." She said with a yawn. She remembered Santana's little sister. Vaguely. She was more worried that Santana having family living with her would cut into her Brittany time-resulting in a very cranky lawyer. On one occasion she had joked that Brittany was her drug. The dancer had replied she should go into a program with a very content, teasing smile on her face. Santana had only shook her head in all seriousness until she started to sing her ever loved Amy Winehouse. "They try to make me go to rehab but I said no..No…NO." Britt made the Latina more laid back, she helped her to joke more. Quinn loved watching them.

"Perfect," Santana interrupted her thoughts as her smile grew wider. "She's outside. Here I go saving your ass."

"Wait, what if I hadn't given her the job, what would you have told her then?" Quinn asked curiously.

"I didn't tell her about the job, I just thought about it and I would have kicked her ass out," she said half joking as she turned to the door and called her sister in who seemed happy to be in a warmer environment. The younger Lopez looked around and then at Quinn who smiled trying to make it less awkward.

"Sam, Samantha," Santana restates before her sister can look at her in sibling annoyance, "this is Q. I mean Charlie," she corrected herself quickly as Quinn turned her head and gazed at the older Lopez, narrowing her eyes. "Charlie, this is Samantha," she said, already bored of trying to have proper etiquette.

"Hello Samantha. Would you mind working here, I could really use the help," She said almost pleading.

"If that means getting out of Tana's apartment that isn't built for two I'm for it." She said teasing her sister. Quinn looked at them then, they clearly love to tease one another but there's also love there. She'd felt like an only child for years and felt slightly envious. Quinn couldn't remember the last time she spoke with her sister.

"Great, did you want to start today or tomorrow," she ask considerately as she looked at Samantha. It's obvious she and Santana were sisters, they look almost identical, though Samantha's younger, but her eyes looked older.

"I don't have a problem with today and you can call me Sam," she said as she looked deep into Quinn's face speaking calmly.

The former cheerleader nodded and started to say, "Okay well…you can help Parker out behind the counter, if you know how to make an omelet he'll show you where everything is and how everything runs like the espresso machine if you want to try it." Quinn said a little more relaxed that she'd have someone extra to help her work.

Sam started to turn away and then called back over her shoulder, "Thanks."

Santana took a seat in a comfortable, overly large chair and looked around the place at the people.

"You're getting a good turn out and you're only going to get more business, you're welcome by the way for my bringing Sam."

Quinn smiled crookedly at her and was about to reply a snarky reply until her friend beat her to it.

"Get ready for being busy and busier," Santana said softly as she got up, ruffled Quinn's hair and then added she'd see her around as the former blonde smiled to her and closed her eyes again.

When she woke up a week has passed. How she had let the time pass was beyond her. Running helped, constantly having a busy coffee shop stopped her from realizing the time and watching the little soap opera that was Sam and Parker amused her. In a week she figured they'd go out on a date. As she sat in the chair again, nearly in the same position with different clothes, Sam and Parker handled the people. Around noon Quinn would get tired and let Parker and Sam bring their own I-pods. Different music filtered through that way, which Quinn really liked and Sam turned out to be a huge help. It became a system-Quinn bought all the supplies and put them away. After that she'd go upstairs for a while working out with the weights she found to relieve the stress. The week had passed in a blur and they made great tips from all the requests of hot chocolate and the many boxes of graham crackers she bought to go with it when a cold front hit the city. Winter seemed to be coming early this year and people loved to purchase hot chocolate with a scoop of ice cream in it.

Quinn glanced around the room seeing all the people enjoying their food, sandwiches, muffins, their soup and their drinks. She noticed all the happy couples. _What if I'm stuck in this body forever? I've never felt more trapped. When I was pregnant it was at least my own body… this complicates things if I ever want to be with someone. Is this how a transgendered person feels? Not right in their own body? I want to be happy but how is that possible if I'm stuck?_

Interrupting her thoughts Sam took a seat next to the heady shop owner and said just above a whisper, "you're lonely." Quinn looked at her and saw her deep, old eyes.

"No," she said choosing her words carefully, "it's complicated and I'm picky by nature."

"Complicated because you can't find yourself?" she asked softly. The former girl frowned at her.

_She must be twenty, she's young…how can she read people so well. I've seen it, if someone seems tired she'll recommend a certain drink and it'll change their demeanor completely and she's receptive to people's moods, but she's also Santana's sister and she could have told her._

"That's part of it," Quinn finally admitted, uncertain of what to tell her.

"Well something's bothering you and it shows...you lost weight, maybe because you're stressed and tired. That reminds me if you want I can open up the shop from now on, but don't get me wrong you look healthy," she finished calmly, sure of her words. The older girl raised her eyebrows at her.

"I feel fine," she said repressing a yawn.

"Quinn…the offer still stands if you want me to open the shop."

The former woman expected her to get up, that would usually be anyone's exit, but she sat peacefully and at ease.

"Did Santana tell you?" she asked growing worried that it was selfish of her to ask her to not tell anyone, maybe she had to tell someone and her sister was someone she could trust.

"No…I met you once while you were in college, you're pretty much the same. In terms of speaking and your mood, the way your hold yourself." Quinn frowned. "You know," she starts to say in a calm, all knowing tone, "when you frown you look older and somewhat burdened like all this weight is on you." Sam acts much older than she is, but she's also closer to my age than she had given her credit.

"So what you're saying is," Quinn said in a light tone, "I talk strangely, I'm lonely, edging on depressed and I slouch?" she said joking.

"No, but you should try to be happy, something good might happen if you don't stay in your head so much." Sam attempted a smile.

"Thanks, I'll think about it," came the reply with a smirk.

"Ugh, now go upstairs and take a nap, Parker and I can handle it down here."

Quinn felt her heavy head nod, considering it.

"And if you give me the key I'll close up and open from now on." She concluded warmly.

The former blonde slowly reached into her pocket and before giving it to her asked, "You don't mind?"

"Not at all, this is the best job I've ever had and truthfully spending more time with Parker isn't going to kill me." She said with a light smile. A crooked smile formed on Quinn's face couldn't deny the happiness about Sam liking Parker, he really seemed like a nice person, and Sam was a good girl, far different from Santana, but still had a good heart and charm to her.

"Okay," and then handed her the key just as she started to get up. "Oh, if you need anything, new teas, orders, ice cream feel free to make a list and put anything on it you think might be good, even if only you and Parker want it for yourselves." Sam nodded to her and Quinn went back upstairs.

Another week passed by smoothly and much easier than the previous one. Quinn lifted more weights and ate more vegetables and even invited Santana and Sam over to have an Italian dinner together. They all enjoyed it and stuck around to eat some brownies Quinn had made with mocha in them. Santana had commented her face looked like there was life behind those eyes and the body...even though it wasn't her own was more toned and slim. Nothing on Quinn looked bulky and the arms were more muscles but not overtly built, she was just lean.

Sam had elbowed Santana in the rib, picking up on Quinn's self-consciousness and Santana cursed, only to add, "What, she looks good." Sam suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and replied in a sardonic tone.

"Compliments aren't your forte."

"Clearly," the older Lopez said, drawing out the word. "I just hit my quota for the month." To Quinn she couldn't stop her smiles. They were what she wanted, that familiar connection, to joke and tease with one another easily. She never had that with Frannie. Quinn always felt like she was in her shadow. Her pregnancy and consequently being kicked out of her house cemented the idea that she would never meet her parents expectations. Now she was in limbo, her life feeling like it was on pause as she tried to keep control of her old life, not realizing how much she missed it until she was forced out of it again. Her friend's presence stopped her from feeling too lonely, but she couldn't and wouldn't use them as a crutch. When they left she got in her workout clothes and went for a long run only to get back and pass out in bed after she dragged herself up the stairs.

After her midday shower was finished once she woke at 10:30 the former blonde headed downstairs in a pair of dark denim pants and a light grey sweater, neutral colors were her favorite even if Santana tried to get her to wear a light blue. To be nice she had worn a blue sweater because the Latina had said it matched her new eyes. Thinking it over now the comment had hurt. Quinn missed her hazel eyes. They were her, they changed depending on her mood and she could bet that if she was herself they'd look a little brown. There weren't any distractions from her thoughts today. Parker left from behind the counter and went around the tables picking up and cleaning them. Sam washed plates and cups in the deep sink and Quinn took over the register.

This was the new, smooth routine we fell into everyday, but she figured they couldn't work every day like this, two weeks was enough, she was going to close on Sundays and Mondays. They did less business on those days even if they were random. Quinn was too busy with her own thoughts, remembering Sam told her to stop being in her head so much when the coffee owner noticed the line in front of her. "I'm sorry, can I help you?" She asked flustered to the teenager looking up at the menu.

"Ah, one hot chocolate, but can I have half of it be coffee," she asked unsure.

"No problem," she said with a gentle smile. "It's great that way," and just before she turned to make the drink she the shy girl smiled back. This drink only took a minute to make, Quinn had become really fast at making everything as she finished scattering the cookies on the saucer. The teen happily took her drink and went to a table. The person in front of the former girl stared at her and Quinn frowned, feeling the woman looked familiar. She gestured with her hand, moving her index finger for Charlie to come closer to her. Quinn complied, maybe she lost her voice or something. Instead the woman leaned down and kissed Charlie on a cheek. Quinn blushed a little and then looked around the room and found Sam's eyes who was assessing the moment before her.

The former HBIC was speechless and the woman in front of her kept smiling. Blue eyes narrowed as her brain tried to play catch up. The crazy, though cute animal sweaters were gone, as were, unfortunately, Quinn realized the short skirts. Yes, she had long ago concluded that she had once liked Rachel Berry, may have been in love with her, but she never let herself feel it. Instead she had pushed those emotions away, buried them more than six feet under. After all she was an overachiever and each insult to Rachel was like a nail in the coffin to those emotions that she wouldn't acknowledge. With college over, a new atmosphere, time to discover herself she had admitted to Brittany one evening that Rachel was someone she could have loved. The sweet blonde had only nodded back as though she already knew and was only waiting for Quinn to admit it. But here was Rachel Berry in her glory, looking beautiful and sophisticated.

"It's been too long," she said warmly, "you look great, I've missed you," she added with tenderness. Quinn looked at Sam again who she wished would telepathically tell her what to do. "Hey, are you okay?" Rachel asked, clearly growing worried. She waited for an answer and Sam swiftly came up to the counter. "Q, say something," she says forcefully, though in a whisper. Quinn looked from her to this new Rachel and then back to Sam who was still staring at her and out of the corner of blue eyes Quinn could see Rachel looking at the both of them.

"Be happy," Sam whispered and went back to doing her work. Quinn shifted her body and focused Rachel's face who's features hadn't changed. The years had been good to her. Brown eyes were still looking at her worried and confused. There was too much confusion and Quinn for the life of her couldn't think of what to say.

Quinn tried for sincerity and the only thing that came to mind after taking in a shallow breath, "Rachel, I'm sorry, I'm okay, how are you?"


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: I'm sure there's many typos, but I'm not going to be my usual uptight self about them. Reviews are appreciated. This is such a random story, but it was really just a concept piece. And this isn't as confusing as people are making it out to be, hopefully this chapter explains things.

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><p>"I'm great, I'm so shocked at how wonderful this place looks." She replied with her usual enthusiasm. Quinn wasn't shocked that her attitude hadn't seemed to change much over the years as Rachel looked around again and then back to blue eyes. "Do you think we could go somewhere and talk," she asked lowering her voice a little.<p>

"Sure," Quinn finally said after a long pause, "but do you want anything," she asked just to be polite, her mother's voice in the back of her head saying when in doubt be polite, mind your manners.

"Later, I promise, I just want to lay down, the plane ride was a little grueling." She finished as she looked over Charlie's face. Quinn felt scrutinized and a little self conscious, which she realized was odd since she wasn't herself. The coffee owner glanced at Samantha who had come over and took her place.

The young Lopez whispered again "stop being in your head so much." Quinn tried to smile to her but she was already moving towards the back door leading Rachel and then let the shorter girl her walk in front of her. When she opened the door the jetlagged woman stopped suddenly and Quinn almost crashed into her if she hadn't had taken a quick step to the side.

"This is different," she said calmly but in shock as she went through the loft smoothly and then sat on the bed, appearing smaller than she was because it was a king size. She looked like was waiting for Charlie but Quinn remained standing, confused and nervous. She had been nervous in high school in her own body with around Rachel. Envious of what she represented-talent, the chance to escape Lima, parents that supported her, confidence.

Even in college Quinn was teased incessantly by Santana for her shy demeanor when it came to women she was interested, not that it happened often because she was too busy having her head in books, another thing the Latina mocked her for. But the situation she was in now-another body-this was unexpected. Rachel began to take her coat off, showing her casual but fashionable clothes. Quinn stepped forward to gently take it from her then hung it up on the back of the door. The brunette starred at her for a brief moment and then took off her shoes as well. Shortly after they starred at each other some until Rachel pulled back the blankets of the made bed and gets in. The former blonde stood there with arms folded across the chest and wondered what to do. Rachel lifted her head off the pillow and asked softly in a tired voice, "are you coming to bed?"

"Should I?" Quinn asked curiously.

"Well yes, of course, why are you so…I told you I'd come back in a month, did you forget I was coming today?" she asks not raising her voice.

"I suppose, I'm sorry," She said sincerely.

"It's alright, come lay down," she pleaded gently. Quinn took off her shoes slowly, one hand on the wall and again felt self conscious as sensed Rachel's eyes looking at her. The brunette had over after Quinn was done, but before she got in she took her sweater off noticing Rachel was shivering a bit and gave it to her. The t-shirt under it was enough…she had been inside all day and the body she was in now gave off more heat than her own. The brunette smiled as she took it, putting it on, her shirt riding up exposing the smooth, tanned skin of her lower stomach making Quinn look away as she got into bed. Rachel turned toward Charlie and moved a few inches closer to the t-shirt covered chest. Quinn purposely made sure they didn't touch as her body tensed and noticed Rachel sensed it but didn't seem to push it. She watched as the smaller woman closed her eyes and within minutes Quinn closed her own, giving into the moment and they drifted off to sleep.

When she woke it had only been an hour of resting and Rachel was still sleeping, though her hand was pressed against the v cut of the neckline, fingers a little chilled and lips close to Quinn's neck. Slowly the former blonde rolled over and out of bed making sure not to wake her. It was 7 o'clock and her stomach was making the usual gurgle noises of protest. Quietly getting out of bed and moving the blankets to cover Rachel more she went to the kitchen and silently started making dinner. It was mostly cutting and washing and breading zucchini so there weren't any loud sounds made. Just as I was putting on a thin layer of cheese over half the baked vegetables on the pan there was movement in the bed. Quinn looked over and Rachel was slowly starting to open her eyes. Putting the tray back in the over for a few more minutes and then moving to the bathroom to wash her face and go to the bathroom Quinn grumbled internally, wondering if she'd ever try to go to the bathroom standing up. Part of her wanted to never try, feeling a bit paranoid in the sense that if she tried and gave into being like a guy she's really be stuck in the body. Yes, she knew it was irrational, but what part of her life was rational anymore?

When she came back to the kitchen Rachel was out of bed and sitting on the couch, the throw blankets hanging on her. She didn't say anything but kept looking at Quinn as she grabbed two blue plates and a few wine glasses. After asking her what she wanted to drink she continued to stare at Charlie in confusion but answered unsure, "if you have wine I'll take a little." Quinn nodded and then took out the zucchini chips that immediately made the room smell of spices. She let them sit for a few minutes as she poured a little bit of wine into the glasses and handed one to Rachel as she looked her over again, her eyes lingering on Charlie's face.

"Since when did you learn how to cook," she asked uncertain.

"I woke up and felt different," she replied truthfully but vaguely then turned back to the kitchen and started to place dinner on the plates. Rachel got up from the couch and took a seat at the kitchen table which Quinn had sanded and stained to look even more antique after insomnia wouldn't let up. She set the food in front of her along with some silverware and then took a seat opposite Rachel. Grabbing her wine glass she took small sips to give her time to say anything if she wanted because I was 100% certain she had no idea what there was to say.

"The place looks great," Rachel said looking all around and then continued, "my friend told me about the review in the Times, it looks amazing downstairs," she offered easily. Gone was the attempt to try so hard, Rachel seemed calm, collected, fluid in her confidence. It had settled, was less abrasive and easier to digest since the hint of what most thought was arrogance had vanished.

"Thanks," Quinn replied trying to not sound overly excited, but the validation was nice.

"What made you decide to change it," she asked after taking a sip of her wine.

"I woke up and decided that I hated everything," she said back to her, remembering the lines from Tomb Raider which she blamed Puck for, they had watched it at least three times in high school. Quinn looked at Rachel and then her food, she hadn't touched it so she took a small bite from her own plate. "You aren't hungry?" She asked once she swallowed.

"I'm a little shocked, that's all," the brunette said back calmly and then picked up her fork, unsure if it was edible, though it smelled good.

"Its vegan, yours is," Quinn offered and kept eating, finally understanding why guys ate so much. She was constantly hungry, but she smiled crookedly and looked at Rachel as she ate, but frowned, not knowing if it was safe to assume Rachel was still vegan.

"This is really good," Rachel admitted after a few silent minutes had passed and more bites followed her opinion after another sip of wine. "So is this," she said tilting her wine glass to the side.

"Glad you like it," Quinn replied nonchalantly even though she relaxed internally at appeasing the former Glee captain.

Moments later when they finished the food and Quinn took their plates to the sink she poured a small amount of wine into their glasses and leaned against the sink. "Charlie," Rachel said slowly and softly. Quinn stiffened, arm wrapped around her chest as she took another sip of wine, hoping and almost praying that the alcohol would provide her some liquid courage. It was better than nothing and she figured if she couldn't summon up the real thing it was better to fake it. "You're acting very…different. You look different," she said raising her voice a little at the last part as she stared at Charlie while she sat at the table.

"Is that a bad thing?" She asked unsure. That part of her that wanted people to accept her had never died, it was strong in high school, that pressure to be her parent's ideal, the girl next door that people envied, but Rachel's opinion mattered. It was always bittersweet when the singer had said she was the prettiest girl she knew. Most importantly she had said she was more than that.

"No, no..but usually you would be kissing me by now," she said with a frown. Quinn frowned back, unaware that Charlie even had a girlfriend.

"Oh," was all she said causing Rachel's features to seem even more unsure.

"Are you seeing the girl downstairs," she asked calmly, void of jealousy.

Quinn lifted her eyebrows, "Samantha?"

"Yes," she said back to Charlie with a small nod.

"No, she's a friend. You'll probably meet her sister…" she trailed off, not wanting Rachel to really reunite with Santana. Plus she knew Rachel didn't know her ex bully had a sister, let alone the chances of meeting again in ew York City. "She needed a job," she said back stating the facts, though bored of them.

"…so why are you so distant," she asked with a little edge of hurt in her voice as she sat with her hands in her lap.

"I'm sorry…I…just don't remember anything," Quinn said fabricating another white lie.

"You don't remember?"

"No…I had an accident and fell a while ago…there was a gash in my head and I had a concussion," she said as she touched the light scar that on the back of her head. She looked conflicted.

Rachel sat thinking it over, weighing it all. Quinn always knew Rachel was smart, manipulative when she wanted to be, annoyingly verbose with vocabulary and could swear she'd be queen of Scrabble.

"So you don't remember me but you let me sleep in your bed," she said confused, trying to put everything together.

"Well….I don't…remember you..but I've seen the Broadway posters so…" I said trailing off, not knowing where she was going with this, though that wasn't a lie. On her runs she'd see billboards of Rachel's face and would smirk, knowing that after the years of torment Rachel had shown up everyone and proven to them the inevitability that she'd make it, she'd be someone to envy, and a force of talent that could command a stage, own it.

"Your don't ever notice those things," she said tilting her head.

"Oh," was all Quinn could say. How could Charlie not notice? Quinn thought the posters were beautiful, artfully composed, creative and showcased Rachel's appeal without looking photoshopped. The first time she saw a poster years ago she lost her breath, Rachel was stunning, but now the real deal was sitting in front of her, looking fragile but held that quiet strength that she always had.

"You have amnesia," Rachel said out of the blue, disrupting the former blonde's thoughts.

"Mhm" she mumbled not sure if that's the right word for switching bodies with someone. Quickly she decided to head downstairs to check on Sam…more to ask her wise self what to do. She excused myself from Rachel and said before leaving, "If you're still hungry there's food in the fridge, I'll be right back," and before she could say anything Quinn went to see Sam.

"What the hell am I going to do," she whispered to the younger Lopez as they stood behind the counter.

"Be happy," was all she said.

"You're serious?" She said in disbelief, voice rising. "I know her! I knew her," she corrected herself, this isn't easy. "You're kidding," she said with more certainty, feeling that Sam couldn't believe it was that simple.

"No, I'm not. Listen, the guy hasn't come back, if he does he should be thankful you turned around the coffee shop and maybe this is your chance to not be so lonely." She said considering her words.

"Sam, that's not fair, that's his girlfriend, Rachel Berry's his girlfriend" she said growing exasperated and then it struck her, Sam knew she was gay. "How did you know?" Quinn asked defensively.

"Oh I could tell," she said in a dismissive tone that suggested it didn't matter as she shrugged. Then again why would it matter? Her sister was Santana. Still Quinn wanted to know, she often flew under everyone's radar.

"How?" She asked again, slightly raising her voice in shock.

"I don't know, you don't scream gay, even when you were you, you really look straight but you're charming, protective and don't pay attention to guys. I think the only guy friend you have is Parker." She stated certainly. "Santana said you didn't have any guy friends in college," she added nonchalantly.

"Oh," as all Quinn could say.

"Listen, relax, breath, tell her the truth when you feel ready and in the mean time…try to be happy," she reiterated again.

"But what am I suppose to do," she pleaded with Sam desperately, annoyed that she was even asking someone for help. Sam rang up another customer and gets them their coffee, clearly thinking it over.

Turning back to her boss she said, "take her to a movie, walk around the city with her," she suggested. Quinn nodded, thinking it over…but its cold outside.

Weighing the options and feeling the need to get out of the shop she decided to make Rachel a hot chocolate to take on the way if she agreed.

"Thanks Sam," she said over her shoulder as she headed back up the stairs.

Once inside Quinn was surprised to find that Rachel wasn't in the kitchen so she moved to the bathroom. Distracted by her thoughts she didn't realize the waters was on as she opened the door and found Rachel inside taking a shower, her hair up and lightly singing. Quinn quickly turned around and closed the door but not before Rachel saw her nicely said hello followed by a smirk as she noticed the blush on Charlie's face.

"Sorry," she said through the closed door and heard Rachel turn the water off and come out in a towel.

"It's okay I was just getting warm," She said gently at Charlie while Quinn looked at the new towel she was in and the small beads of water that were on her shoulders. Blushing more and cursing in her head Quinn tried to think of something to say.

"Um..I was wondering if you would want to walk around the city…in a while…if you're not tired," she said ineloquently, looking past Rachel at the wall.

"Sounds good, let me just get dressed," she said as she stepped towards the bedroom. The coffee shop owner headed back to the kitchen and did the dishes in a rush. She was startled to feel arms around her waist. On instinct the muscles stiffened, realizing who it was she turned off the water and put the last dish away. When she moved around to Rachel the smaller woman kissed her briefly on the cheek creating a new blush on Charlie's face. She smiled and looked at my face and then her eyes drifted towards Charlie's lips. Quinn moved to the side and grabbed a thick sweater followed by a thin scarf. The singer looked around the loft and Quinn rushed to get her jacket, holding it up for her to get into. The Broadway star frowned but accepted the old fashioned gesture, moving into the expensive jacket smoothly. Again Quinn couldn't think of anything to say and Rachel seemed weary, but they went downstairs, silently making their way to the street.

"Wait a minute," Quinn asked after they were in the shop. Moving behind the counter, she got a paper cup and poured some hot chocolate in followed by soymilk and worked the machine, mixing until it was frothy. As she poured it into the to-go cup Sam looked at Quinn and nodded as if to say good thinking. Quinn reached for a small bag of graham cracker cookies and walked slowly toward Rachel, trying not to spill any of the drink. She smiled and laughed at the overly cautious walk. "Here you go," Quinn said handing it to her, watching Rachel smile as she lead the way out of the store.

The shocking chill of the air caused her to hold onto the hot chocolate tighter and Quinn's muscles tightened to keep and body heat together. They walked a few feet and she took a sip of the drink. When she looked up she had a dot of froth on her nose. Not able to stop it Quinn laughed and Rachel looked back confused causing Quinn to laugh more because the singer had no idea. Quinn lifted her hand out of the jeans pocket and gently brushed it off her nose with her index finger. Rachel looked slightly embarrassed, ducking her head but smiled anyways. They continued to walk on as she drank the remnants of the hot chocolate and came to an art gallery.

"Want to go in?" Quinn asked with a tilt of her head.

"Why not," she said contently as she threw away the cup as Quinn opened the door for her. It was warm inside, a nice change from the fall, night weather. Quinn took off the scarf and folded it, let half of it hang out of her hand. Slowly they walked through the gallery and discussed the pieces they liked and those they found disturbing. One she fell in love with and starred at it for nearly ten minutes as she walked around by herself. Looking at the information to the side of it she noticed it was for sale, a thousand dollars. Fantastic. She wanted it and it would be great in the shop. Quickly she found the manager and discussed with her how it could be picked up. She said they would be closing in a half hour and could take it then.

Immediately Quinn pulled out her card handed it over to her. After everything was finished she went to find Rachel who stood her in the corner looking at a small framed piece of two people standing next to one another in an x-ray looking image. If you looked closer you noticed that they overlapped each other and that although they were different they were forced to share their existence together. Quinn looked at the description to read it said-transference. Not the best title but she looked at the price and it was cheap for New York; two hundred dollars, likely because it was a copy but she decided to ask the manager about that one as well. Rachel noticed me starring at it and asked, "You like it?"

"Mhm" she thought out loud, "it explains a lot about what I've been thinking about lately," she finished. Rachel looked at Charlie confused and then the lights started to turn out around us, leaving only the candles that were burning on café tables to give off a light glow. Quinn looked around and realized they were the only ones left and the manager said she was closing so the former blonde asked her about the small piece in the corner and replied, "The artist knocked the price down to one fifty."

Quinn smiled and said, "I'll take it." Rachel kept looking between us and then decided to excuse herself and headed for the door. The manager and Quinn talked briefly as she had someone wrap the pieces of art in brown paper as she gave her card again. The manager thanked her at the door and a worker handed Quinn the art. Rachel said that the art was wonderful, always offering a warm gesture, the Rachel Berry approach to life and then they left the store with Rachel holding the smaller piece of art that she offered to carry back and Quinn with the larger one. It only took a few minutes to get back into the coffee shop which was just starting to close up itself when she opened the door.

Trying to get the piece of art shifted to her other side as she held up the door for Rachel she didn't notice Sam back away from the counter until she heard a cup drop. The noise caused Quinn to look up and see Sam looking disturbed and scared. Sam never looked scared. It might be a Lopez trait, but both women were pretty fearless, attack life in their own way and handle it on their own. Quinn followed her gaze to what she was fearful of when she quickly looked at me and screamed, "Q," while she then looked back at the homeless guy with a knife, trying to take all the money out of the tip jar.

The former HBIC didn't give a crap about that as she rushed into the shop, dropping the art inside, discarding it and locked the door. The homeless guy was small and thin looking, dirty and appeared desperate. She moved Rachel over to a side of the shop where she felt she would be safer and stepped closer to Sam's direction. Getting out her cell phone and calling 911 saying that there was a robbery in process at Wonderland's café, giving the exact address then clicked off the phone.

The homeless guy turned to glare at Charlie and looked pissed that his plan had been interrupted. There was only Sam in the store and no one else, it was late, and it seemed to be a perfect opportunity. He lifted his arm even more with the knife and swiveled back to Sam. Right when the guy was too distracted by Sam as he yelled at her to open the cash register Quinn crept behind him and punched him in the kidney; that one self defense class Santana forced her to coming back to her. It was a nice memory. The Latina had manipulated Brittany into going saying it was a dance class. When they got there the tanned woman said she might have mixed up the times, but since they were there they might as well try it out. Quinn had smirked, knowing that even though Brittany thought violence was bad she wanted her girlfriend to be safe.

It might have been all the adrenaline that made Quinn punch him so hard or that lifting weights over the past couple weeks had helped but he bent forward as he let out a painful Ahhh.

He let go of the knife as a jolt of pain went through him once she punched him in the same spot again. This time he went down, but he tried to get back up again and instead of looking at Charlie he continued to look at Sam, sneering. This guy is insane. Quinn didn't mind homeless people at all, sometimes she'd give them food they were unfortunately going to throw away, but this man wasn't stable. She grabbed him by the collar and punched him in the stomach, cringing herself, knowing it hurt; recalling when her father had hit her.

Finally he went down and stayed there just as flashing lights filled the room, coming from the large front window. Grabbed all of the money he had taken, not caring about it but Sam would probably on principle alone if she let him walk away with it. Then they heard banging on the door. All eyes focused on the entrance. Rachel rushed over and undid the latch, two police officers came in and looked at the homeless guy and the knife, then at Sam and then at Charlie.

They said together, "what happened here?" Sam turned to them and started to explain as Quinn called Santana and told her to come here in a very brief, tense voice. It was a little after ten but she got there in record time after Quinn told her that Sam was in the store and assured her everything was fine. Just as Santana arrived the police officers left with the man in handcuffs. The older Lopez sister looked like she was about to punch the guy when Sam came over and gave her a hug to calm her down and get her fully inside the store. They talked and Sam kept saying she was fine, everything was alright, no one was hurt.

Santana had her hand on her hips and looked at me, "you let her close up the shop and this is what happened," she said with annoyance and disbelief.

The former cheerleader must have looked like she had been slapped because Sam said in exasperation and sheer anger, "Santana!" The two sisters starred at one another and Sam seemed to have won the staring contest as Santana visibly relaxed, hugging her sister again, turning her back towards me. Sam looked at me then and apologized with her eyes for Santana's emotional outburst, but it was dismissed because it was Santana's M.O. to get defensive and lash out.

"Charlie," she said to her sister after they had pulled back from one another, "sort of beat up the guy…" she trailed off as Rachel came to stand beside Quinn. Santana looked at Rachel, Rachel looked at Santana and Sam, Sam looked at Santana who then looked at me.

"What the hell is Rachel freaking Berry doing here," Santana said in disbelief. Quinn frowned at her and she continued to glance between her best friend and Rachel. "Also…you've always been anti-violence like Britt since college and…I assumed the police handled…it," she finished becoming calmer as Sam squeezed her hand, focusing her thoughts it seemed.

Quinn nodded not knowing what to say. _Maybe this is why I don't have a girlfriend, I never know what to say._ Sam decided that was her queue to start with introductions, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

"So…now that we're all fine…Rachel this is Santana who I'm assuming you know," she said with a frown. "I'm Sam, her sister…and she's a good friend of dear Charlie here," she said nicely looked again at Rachel who seemed stunned by all of this.

"Sorry you couldn't have met under better circumstances," Quinn said to them all and then addressed Sam. "You know you don't have to close up anymore," she stated softly, "Parker can if he's up to it."

"Great," she said happily, "I can spend more time with Parker," she finished with a smile.

"That's not what I meant," Quinn said to Sam, her voice raising a little, feeling like an older sister scolding her sibling.

"Are you insane?" Santana said to Sam raising her voice as well. Sam on the other hand looked at her sister like this is not a debate, she's fine and it's set. Quinn shook her head at the scene in front of her; it's like a mini drama that she knew would exhaust her once upstairs.

Sam rolled her eyes at her sister and said, "Parker has a black belt," in a tone where arguing is not an option. Santana just shook her head while Quinn stood frowning, looking everything over… even though Sam looked younger, you could swear they were twins. They even had that lawyer tone and persona. Quinn sighed and went behind the counter to clean up, putting the money back in the jar and throwing out the broken glass.

Rachel came over with her and looked Charlie over as the spilled drink was cleaned in the kitchen. Santana came over and said, "I'm sorry..I'm glad you're okay," she said warmly and Quinn threw out the paper towels. She came over to me and gave a long embrace, whispering in my ear, "thank you, for taking care of Sam." And she pulled back."As for you," she said turning to face Rachel, "hurt this one," she said pointing to Quinn, purposefully avoiding any pronouns or names as blue eyes widened, "I will find a way to sue your dwarf ass. Just so we're clear. I'm still the same badass, but on a professional level," but her eyes softened a bit, smirking at the former diva who seemed in shock. Quinn watched it all. Thankful that Santana had refrained from saying anything about her crush in high school.

The lawyer put her hand on Quinn's shoulder and headed to the door with Sam who waved goodbye and said she'd be in tomorrow and that she'd call Parker to see if he could close with her. Quinn waved back and then locked the door behind them, turned off the lights, and lastly grabbed the art that was thrown on the floor earlier. She moved the bigger one up against the wall off to the side to hang the next day and took the little one with her upstairs as she followed Rachel who was shockingly silent and seemed to be in a daze up to the loft. She was still silent for as Quinn walked around inside and grabbed a hammer and nail.

Following Charlie into the bedroom as she hung up the new art that was strategically placed in of the wall to remind myself that Rachel was his girlfriend, Quinn tried to dismiss the singer's gaze as brown eyes looked at Charlie's stomach as the sweater lifted while she placed the art on the wall. Too distracted to notice that Rachel was trying to speak to her as I hammered she raised her voice even more and nearly yelled, "Q."

Quinn stopped hammering and turned to her on instinct then placed the hammer on the dresser and finished hanging the art, centering it.

"Yeah, Rachel?" She asked.

"I called you Charlie three times and you didn't notice…until I say Q," she said barely above a whisper. "What is going on," she continued. Shoulders tensed then her back, the muscles getting knotted as Quinn defensively moved away from her. Realizing that she had cornered herself she took a few steps and left the bedroom for more open territory of the living room. Rachel followed her slowly and kept asking calmly,"why does Sam call you Q and why have I never met Santana until now? You couldn't have known we know each other. You seem close, I don't even know how. Santana doesn't scream affection but she was tonight" she continued. "And you went to college together...you never talked about college." She said trying to figure everything out.

"Could we talk about this later, perhaps," Quinn asked her as she took another step back from her.

"No, I want to understand this!" She practically yelled. The events clearly taking its toll on her. "You've changed so much and I don't see how you can't remember anything when you remember Santana and Sam."

"I don't really know Sam, I just met her officially two weeks ago." The former blonde said to the floor and then at Rachel.

"Really, because she seems to know you and understand you," Rachel said becoming a little annoyed.

"She's just perceptive," she said to her own and Sam's defense. The singer took a step towards Charlie and Quinn took a step back.

"Why do they call you Q," she said losing the annoyance in her tone and growing serious. Quinn didn't answer her, instead she looked at the floor. She took another step towards Charlie and Quinn instinctually took another step back. "Charlie…"she said softly and Quinn turned her head to stop from looking at her, clenching her jaw.

_I'm not Charlie, God this is fucked up, I can't be here, I want my body back, I want to get out of this place._

Rachel moved her hand closer to Charlie's face and Quinn flinched away, taking another step back running into the kitchen counter with her lower back. She moved her hand around to her back to rub it and don't see Rachel's hand coming up to rest near Charlie's jaw. It was slow motion. Whenever Rachel touched her it was like it was being done to someone else. Its why she felt guilt that her crush was giving her any affection, an attempt at comfort when she was tricking her, lying to her. It was bittersweet but a necessary reminder that this was Charlie's body.

The warmth of her palm caused Quinn to relax, as much as she didn't want to. Rachel was always tender, always the first to reach out and offer friendship, acceptance, the absence of being judged. Quinn clenched her jaw again and felt the body become rigid.

"Why are you so defensive," Rachel asked, searching blue eyes. Eyes that weren't Quinn's who gently grabbed her hand and remove it from Charlie's face. Rachel twisted her hand around and held onto Charlie's wrist.

"Can we please…go to sleep…I'm tired," Quinn said pleading. Rachel sighed and took a step back in defeat.

Looking into blue eyes again she asked, "When are you going to explain all of these changes?"

"Hopefully I won't have to and it'll all work itself out," Quinn said vaguely. Rachel frowned at that and headed to the bedroom. The former girl stayed in the living room and started to sit on the couch when Clare tuned and said, "aren't you coming," which was more like a demand. Quinn shook her head, not trusting words or her voice.

"This is ridiculous you know I don't sleep well and I'm being patient with letting you decide when you want to tell me, could you at least lay down with me?" she asked stating a valid point. She sighed and got up from the couch as she again headed towards the bedroom, giving into Rachel because it seemed fair or because she wanted to be closer to Rachel she didn't both to decide.

When Rachel got to the bedroom she was starting to take off her shirt and was searching for a smaller one of Charlie's. Quinn took off the sweater and gave her the black t-shirt she was wearing and stood there half naked, starring at the wall to stop from staring at her in her underwear. If anything Quinn had a flashback and realized she felt like Sam, her ex boyfriend in Glee when he was cast in Rocky Horror, standing with her arms framing her body, self-conscious and lacking the guard of clothes. Her head was started to hurt so she headed to the bathroom to get a muscle relaxer and an advil. Taking off the shoes and pants, throwing the shoes over near the door and the pants in a hamper she brushed her teeth and headed back to bed after putting on a white t-shirt. Feeling exposed in a pair of boxer brief from target that she was sure many males wouldn't wear because of the monkey on it and a thin t-shirt Quinn pulled the covers around her tightly and tried to go to sleep as Rachel lay a few inches away from her.

Not caring about the alarm clock, feeling the muscle relaxer set in she started to drift to sleep, falling into a deep, vivid dream of being in her own body, being happy, living in her own apartment and…living with someone who was kissing her and laying on her, keeping her warm. The dream was so relaxing and vivid Quinn felt herself kissing back. When she felt movement around Charlie's body and heard a soft Mmm she woke up and was surprised by her arms being around Rachel as she kissed Charlie. Immediately Quinn stopped and pulled away from her.

_This had to be a dream, let this be a dream… it's easier to deal with if it isn't reality._

Stopping her from more thoughts Rachel moved her hand from Charlie's neck and touched his stomach which shuddered under her warm palm.

She took this is a good sign and started the kiss again. _This has to be a dream, this is wrong if it isn't a dream._

Charlie's lips were kissing her back, like muscle memory, but her brain was unable to stop them. Finally she was able to speak, "No..no..No…NO," she said growing more sure of her voice.

_This has to be god's sick joke, this is cruel._

Rachel finally stopped and looked into pained blue eyes. She kneeled up, still laying on top of Charlie and then she touched her own lips.

"You kiss differently."

Quinn made a small grunt, "you tricked me into kissing you," she said with tension building as her anger did as well. She closed her eyes, feeling resentment build. She hated this body and the hormones that came with it. Guys had more testosterone, she didn't like it at all. Breathing in deeply she tried to calm down and not lift Rachel off her with brute strength. Quinn had fantasized before about lifting Rachel and putting her on a desk in school or making her wrap her tan thighs around her waist, making her short skirts ride up and she pushed her against a wall. High school was akin to torture when Rachel was oblivious to how attractive she was. But now that she was trapped in a guys body, lifting Rachel would be incredibly easy, practically nothing since she was so tiny.

"How else was I going to kiss you, you won't touch me, all you do is stay in your head and frown and…" she said trailing off.

"What," Quinn asked her, edging her on to finish.

"You're so different, you changed…your walk…the way you sleep, your manners, your taste for art…your body," she says placing her hand on Charlie's chest. Quinn gently took her hand and remove it, her headache starting again. This time she gave in and without much effort she held Rachel delicately around her waist and move her so she could get out of bed.

"Excuse me," Quinn mumble and went into the bathroom only to have Rachel follow her, watching her as Quinn grabbed the advil bottle and head to the kitchen. She's was a few feet behind her with everything action. Quinn grabbed the fridge door and opened it, taking a bottle of water and as she tried to get the bottle open her hand shook, but after a few tries Rachel took the bottle gently and opened it, looking Charlie over with a sad face.

"Thanks," Quinn mumbled and tipped the bottle over into a masculine hand and let five pills come out. She twisted open the water bottle, take a large drink and then toss the pills into her mouth. After she swallowed she glanced at Rachel who looked worried and more confused and Quinn tossed the two bottles on the counter. She leaned back against the counter waiting for the pills to dull the headache and closed blue eyes to shut out the morning light.

"Charlie…" Rachel said calmly. Quinn open her eyes just as Rachel's hand grabbed a hold of Charlie's. Quinn let go of her and refused to look into brown eyes that gave away every emotion that Rachel had. Instead she grabbed the counter instead and shifted her weight as Rachel continued to stare as Quinn crossed arms over her chest in a protective stance, bracing herself.

"I'm not Charlie," she finally said. "I can't be Charlie, I don't know anything about him," she finished tiredly.

"What do you mean?" she said as her voice rose.

Quinn stood silent, impassive, solid, marble, impenetrable- a fortress with walls that she wouldn't let Rachel into. She would figure this out on her own, she handled everything else in her life.

Hitting her breaking point Rachel threw up her hands, moved in a tight circle, blew out a sharp breath and seemed to get ready for battle with her hands on her hips.

"Charlie Fabray you will tell me what's wrong!"


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Happy Halloween! Let me start off with a small story. Apparently I'm a freak because I got kids healthy snacks instead of candy-but fruit snacks are yummy. I also got organic cliff bars-chocolate chip. Yes, I think most kids are unhealthy and candy isn't healthy but still! So listening to Bon Iver and prepping dinner for a friend who's coming over makes for an awesome afternoon. This could have been longer, but I may have overdid at the gym so I'm tired. Hopefully you enjoy and I admit tis becoming a pet peeve when anyone favorites a story of mine (though this is my least favorite story and written just for fun) and they fail to leave a single review. On that note thank you to those who have left reviews, they're very nice and appreciated. Personally I like to leave reviews when I come across a story I love or even a concept I've fallen in love with, I'll tell the author that. Please disregard the typos. Again merci for feedback.

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><p>"What did you just say?" Quinn asked, completely shocked. She had to have heard wrong, it was a coincidence, there were other Fabray's in the world of course and…and…<p>

Quinn had to sit down. She was feeling dizzy. Like when she realized she was pregnant after having sex for the first time. It wasn't even making love, it had never been that. At the time Puck wanted something and she wanted to believe that she was pretty and wasn't Lucy Fabray, that part of her personality had died after years of extreme diets and training. Quinn was someone better, someone who had been born from sweat and hard work and she arrived in high school with her head held high and with a commanding aura. Now she wasn't even that. He was forced into another body and was without any solid ground.

A wave of sickness passed over her. _Keep it together_, she reminded herself, breathe. _Freaking breathe. _She was doing well until Rachel kneeled in front of her and grabbed Charlie's face, making foreign blue eyes lock with emotional brown.

"Charlie…Charlie..its okay," Rachel said with such passion that Quinn couldn't debate her, her voice was so sincere and Rachel always had hope.

"I'm not Charlie," Quinn said slowly with a headache building. Rachel looked at her confused, a frown marring her beautiful features even as she kept hold of Charlie's face, her palms cupping the jawline. Quinn sighed and felt exhausted. She closed her eyes tightly and wish or more prayed that she could be back in her body. When she opened them Rachel was still staring at her, looking expectantly and waiting in anticipation. Gently Quinn took Rachel's thin wrists and removed them from Charlie's face and turned away, peering at the blank kitchen table as though it could give answers. Maybe it could. Smoothly she got up, not noticing the rejection pass over Rachel and her eyes casting downward and Quinn went into the closet to grab all the papers.

Ignoring Rachel was rude, she knew it, they both did, but she needed something to do and explaining to her ex glee captain something that wasn't possible was going to either freak Rachel out or make her call a mental hospital. The prospects angered her, though she couldn't blame Rachel if those were her options, but Quinn needed proof, needed to see it in black and white.

Slamming the papers down on the table she took a heavy seat and got ready for research, again, unaware of Rachel's hurt expression. She only stopped when Rachel's hand swept across her shoulder, looking down at the papers as well and said gently, "Q".

Quinn sighed and let out a small "Hm?" It was an acknowledgement that was bittersweet. She wasn't Rachel's Charlie and Rachel clearly wanted Charlie, she didn't want a stranger; though Quinn couldn't understand why. She thought Rachel would date another Broadway star or someone in the business, not a loser with a messy loft, typical guy who didn't seem to have many aspirations. Then again that seemed like déjà vu, he was like Finn in that sense. Quinn shook her head at that and kept looking over the papers. She hadn't read them before, just organized them when she had cleaned the place prior weeks ago. This time she saw his bank statements and with a sharp intake of air realized how Charlie could keep his coffee shop when it didn't seem to be doing well, if anything he broke even, but deposits were pushing him along, keeping him afloat. Money from a Russel Fabray.

How long had they sat in silence? Quinn didn't know. She was more in tune to the body she was in and the stomach that was tightening, the abs that were shaking, and then she was quickly out of the seat and headed to the bathroom where she leaned over the toilet and threw up dinner, wine and anything else that was still in her stomach.

"Char…Q" Rachel finished as she bent down and rubbed small circles into the muscular back. Quinn turned her head which felt incredibly heavy and appeared as more of a roll on her forearm. Reaching up Rachel pressed a cool hand to Charlie's forehead.

"You're burning up," She stated factually and Quinn as fast as she could moved away from Rachel and flushed the toilet. Never in her life had she been able to accept physical affection well and it felt like a lie that Rachel was offering it. Somewhere in her mind Quinn knew Rachel should offer consideration or anything tender to a girl who had tormented her for years even if the last thing she had said to the singer during graduation was-you'll make something of yourself.

And of course Rachel did. She was the embodiment of Broadway, she had talent, raw, powerful talent. Anyone who looked at Rachel and dismissed her small stature and perfectionist appearance was a fool because over the years Quinn had seen Rachel take every slushy, every insult and come back better. Rachel Berry was fierce. Even in her gentle caress Rachel was still commanding and for a second Quinn wanted to give in, to embrace the warm gesture that Rachel was offering, but she did what she was raised to do, what the Fabray's taught one another. She stood up and moved away from the brunette. It wasn't as dramatic or hurtful as a push but it might as well had been.

"I have to go," Quinn mumbled and unsteadily got up from the floor, grabbing a jacket in haste, her phone, wallet and rushed downstairs. Cars were passing quickly but Quinn held her arm out and grabbed a cab as air rushed into her lungs until she hopped in, giving the destination she asked that he get there quickly as he stomach turned again, this time with nothing in it. The subway, she knew was an option but she wanted to be above ground, feeling somehow that being trapped wouldn't help the situation.

"Santana," she said after she pressed a few buttons. "I'm coming over….yeah…I know you're busy…I just need…I think Britt can handle it, I just needed to get out of there….I'll tell you later. In ten minutes," she nearly screamed. Santana had never been one for patience. Luckily in less than that she was in Tribeca.

Knocking three times she waited, shifting her weight as Santana opened the door, with a curious Brittany behind her.

"He's cute. Can we keep him?" She asked Santana as her arm wrapped around the Latina's waist.

"Already owned Britts." Santana smirked, knowing they all belonged to one another, their friendship over the years had become more like family. Quinn never felt like the third wheel and they all knew Santana was a little on the possessive side. The dancer accepted Santana's words and turned to let Quinn in.

"You seem really familiar," the blonde said, drawing out the really.

"Its Q babe, body switch, weird as hell, some scifi shit, but I think she found the missing puzzle piece. Spill Blondie." The lawyer said as they moved into their apartment.

For a minute Quinn was taking in Brittany and Santana, they were so comfortable with one another, they knew each other like the backs of their hands. Quinn never had someone like that. She had to admit it was beautiful, even after seeing them with their hair mused and the obvious smirk on Santana's lips that she had just had sex with who she thought was the most amazing woman in the world and Brittany's eyes shimmered expressing the same.

"Charlie's my brother." She said slowly.

"The fuck." Santana said a second later and Brittany's eyes went back and forth over her girlfriend and her best friend.

"Half brother, I assume. I would have noticed if my mother had another kid…" she still said slowly and trailed off.

"Always said Russel Fabray was a dick." The tanned girl said bluntly.

"No, you called him a bastard and a son of a bitch, never a dick." Brittany said with her head tilted. The brunette turned her head to offer a small smile to her girlfriend and turned back to Quinn.

"You get the point."

Quinn's shoulders slouched as though she deflated but crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hold herself together. "He's my…half brother…"

"Heard you the first time chicka, so he hasn't shown up and Rachel Freaking Berry's his girlfriend, small world and you need Aunt Tana's help," she said with a smirk.

"I saw Rachel a few weeks ago," the blonde said with a shrug, interrupting, but continued. "She talks less…but she still talks a lot. And she's cuter now," she said with a matter of fact tone.

"You never said B."

"You never liked her," her girlfriend replied without a beat with another shrug.

"She's always been a diva," Santana replied dismissively, offering her reasoning.

"She's not a diva," Quinn said defensively. In the past few days she hadn't noticed Rachel act arrogant or full of herself at all. New York City had calmed her. The former blonde felt Santana look her over with a raised eyebrow. "What did she say?" Quinn asked curiously to Britt, redirecting the conversation. She also knew she and Rachel hadn't talked much even though they were temporarily living together and some background info couldn't hurt.

"She's on Broadway, doing a new show, she's been dating this guy Charlie for almost two years, wants to get a dog but she was traveling a lot so that wouldn't work. I agreed, no one wants a lonely dog, it's just mean, they need love."

"Jesus she's been dating the slacker for almost two years," the lawyer proclaimed. She may not have been Rachel's number one fan but she knew the diva could do better, they all knew it. "So you left her alone at his loft, just ran out?"

"Oh."

"Smooth Fabray, always the charmer," the lawyer said with her usual sarcasm but lacked any venom.

"Hey, you switch with a guy's body!" Quinn replied defensively anyway.

"No, that's like totally disgusting," her best friend said dismissively.

"Isn't is just like a strap-on?" Britt asked confused and Quinn watched as Santana's eyes widened and lightly shook her head. "And is it October? Because this would be like the perfect Halloween prank the universe pulled on you." Brittany offered her reasoning behind the phenomenon.

"No babe, no to all the above. But back to Q here. Go talk to Berry. She's always been weird, I mean you could tell her you're Barbra Streisand and she'd have a heart attack." Santana said as she looked at her girlfriend as though she was the most adorable thing in the world, quirks and all.

"Cause she loves Barbra Streisand so much!" Britt said excitedly and the former girl watched Santana bit the inside of her mouth to keep a large smile from forming.

"She's not naïve Santana. Also you and Sam keep calling me Q. She noticed that." She said rationally, arms still over her chest.

"So what," she said shaking her head. "Berry was never a cheerleader. She may have watched you dance with some lingering looks and called you pretty a couple a times but she's not gonna know you're Quinn Fabray."

Quinn took in best friend's words and shifted her eyes to her other best friend who sat nodding with a knowing smirk.

"What Britt?" Quinn asked, amused by the blonde's mindframe and often random comments.

"You wanted Rachel to be in cheerleading with us," the blonde said with a smirk and Quinn's mouth dropped a little. Okay true, she had thought about that back in the day. Rachel in a cheerleading outfit, but decided her brain might explode and long ago shut that fantasy down.

"Freak," Santana said to Quinn with her own smirk and lacked any judgmental tone. "Go talk to the dwarf," she said with an almost warmth. "And if you need to panic again you know to come here. But talk to Berry." She finished with command, knowing Quinn sometimes needed to be pushed rather than run away from their issues. It was both of their problems.

Santana could read her and vice versa, they were too similar not to, its why they clashed so much in high school. But at that moment she was thankful for her friend's bluntness and dropped her arms as Santana and Brittany both moved on each side of Quinn to offer hugs. It was bizarre to think that if most straight men saw her now they'd be jealous and think she was a badass, but Quinn only wanted her body back. Lightly squeezing her friend's waists she was glad they were happy, content with each other. She moved out of their embrace and turned back to the front door, already thinking of the words to say to Rachel.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: Longer than the last chapter. By the way if anyone has any suggestions feel free to mention them and if I use them you of course get credit. This is meant to be a fun story, random as hell and of course unrealistic since people don't change bodies. Pardon typos. I like dialog so hopefully people think its in character.

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><p>"Rachel..." the voice cracked and Quinn cursed under her breathe. Of course it would crack, it wasn't her voice, but she cleared her throat anyway and tried again. The name came out a little clearer but still lacked any confidence. The name wasn't spoken loudly, Quinn didn't think yelling would be appropriate and she admitted she had yelled at Rachel Berry enough during high school.<p>

Latching the loft door shut behind her and turned around just in time to catch Rachel less than five inches away from her.

"Jesus Christ!" Quinn almost yelled, her heart rate increasing as she looked at the commanding figure in front of her. Even after college Rachel still managed to be a bit intimidating. Okay, who was she kidding? A lot intimidating. Might as well start with the honesty somewhere.

"I'm Jewish," Rachel said with a frown, without missing a beat.

"I'm not," Quinn replied with a shrug.

"Yes you are, you said your father is very religious," the brunette said factually but didn't miss the flinch from Charlie and added, "but you said you're Jewish so you couldn't be like him, a sort of rebellion, if you will."

"I'm not really any religion," She mumbled, her headache building. Rachel stood there, now with her arms across her chest, looking more confused. Quinn sighed, she felt exhausted. "Jesus Christ, Moses, Budda all hanging out. Better?" The former girl tried an attempt at humor.

"No, let's start with your fall. Did you see a doctor after? Tests should have been done, they could explain this change in behavior."

Quinn closed blue eyes tightly and wished that she could be back in her body. This conversation was one she had been dreading. It wasn't rational and with the headache building she had no desire to stand and be yelled at. Not that Rachel was yelling, she was calm and collected, but she didn't want to see if her diva storm outs were still present. When she opened her eyes Rachel was still staring at her.

"Skip over the fall. You said I walk differently, talk differently, sleep differently and even kiss differently. Can you explain that?" She pleaded. "Everything has changed," she said in a tone that didn't warrant an argument.

"What are you saying?" she asked in confusion.

"I'm saying…I'm not who you think I am..I'm not your friend, I'm not your boyfriend." Quinn finished. She just continued to stare at me.

"Q…"she said finally, looking away to the side. Quinn nodded slowly. "Sam…always calls you Q." Rachel continued aloud, more to herself. The former cheerleader nodded again and this time Rachel looked at Quinn. "What is going on," she asked growing annoyed.

"I honestly don't know. I remember…getting a headache…trying to walk out of the coffee shop and then I fainted. When I woke up I was in…Charlie's body..and I'm freaking you out," she finished softly as Rachel took a small step away from her. "I'll go…Sam can fill you in with anything if you want to talk to her." Quinn said as she made her way to the bedroom. Now was her chance to go back to her apartment. She didn't want to bother Santana and Brittany anymore, there was a perfectly nice apartment, her apartment that was empty; one she could escape to.

"Wait," the singer said in a rush, grabbing Charlie's wrist. Quinn stopped, Rachel's small hand made Quinn's wrist burn. "If you're in…his body…where's Leo?" she asked frowning again.

"I'd assume…in my body. That's why I'm always here…if he comes back…I can stop him, talk to him or something," She said trailing off and then moved her wrist so Rachel would let go and continued to walk to the bedroom again. Anger was starting to build. Of all the things to ask Rachel was worried about her loser boyfriend, not the person who was in the room with her now, about to go insane with the entire situation. A few seconds in the bedroom she gathered a pair of jeans, a shirt, a sweater and put them in a bag, rushed and not bothering to fold them, anger and resentment making her not care. As she packed she felt Rachel behind her. She doesn't say anything but glanced at Charlie, then at the art on the wall.

"This is why you bought this, it makes sense," she said under her breath. Quinn nodded and left the room, careful to not touch Rachel on the way. She put on a pair of shoes that looked fit for a business meeting she had bought while on a shopping spree with Santana. "You don't have to leave, we can figure this out," she said quickly.

"Really? What's there to figure out? If he had wanted to have his life back he would have been here by now, but he's not, so now I'm stuck here in this body and I'm sure mine's by the side of the road in a ditch somewhere, which makes me trapped," She said raising her voice, and rolled her head around, cracking her neck as the headache grew. On instinct Quinn reached out and clutched the wall for a minute trying to catch her breath. She could feel Rachel's intense gaze on her and then felt a wave of coldness hit her body, followed by a wave of heat settling over, coating her, making her feel suffocated.

Breathing was taxing, Quinn felt panic clamp on her mind until a cool hand was against the side of her face. "You're sick. You need to lie down," in a warm tone, but Quinn shook her head, she wanted out of there, she needed...

"No, I need to get out of here and go home. I can't be here," she said as she grasped the door handle, but Rachel's hand gently covered over Charlie's and said, "let me take care of you and then you can leave, you don't need to go falling down the stairs."

And that tone held so many layers, Rachel cared. She was giving Quinn an easy way out and options. Blue eyes looked at her and Quinn saw the sincerity. She saw her point and let go of the handle to lean against the door trying to breath deeply. She felt light headed and as she took a step towards the bedroom, her knees giving out and she bent towards the floor.

For a split second there was embarrasment but Rachel caught her half way as Quinn fell, but she quickly shifted so Rachel would fall on top of her. Accidently hitting her stomach was an unavoidable side effect and instead of making the smaller girl feel guilty Quinn turned her head to cover up the pain.

"Are you okay? Oh god," she asked, frantic.

"I'm fine," Quinn lied and knew Rachel could tell since she hadn't put much effort into it.

"You're burning up," she said, "do you want to lie down?" The words were offered kindly but Quinn shook her head.

"No…I want to take a shower, it always helps," she said slowly.

"This happens often?" she asked growing scared.

"Sometimes…but not this bad," she said to the floor, her face still tilted but softly removed Rachel from her body. Pushing herself up in a half push up she felt the muscles strain. Rachel was up and tried to help her to her feet as well and then slungs my arm around Charlie's waist as she opened the bathroom door after they had taken a few steps together. Her head felt like it was twenty pounds and so Quinn leaned against the bathroom wall as Rachel started to take off her sweater. Closing her eyes was so easy but she didn't want to open them. It was a pathetic attempt to make the pain in her head go away and the nausea of her stomach that sometimes came with it. Small hands kept moving over Charlie's body and Quinn realized Rachel was about to take off the t-shirt when her hand grasped Rachel's tan ones.

"Stop," she whispered with eyes still closed.

"You need to take a shower, you said you wanted to take a shower," she replied in a commanding tone but still managed to be soft. Quinn's body relaxed and she let her take of the shirt. Warm hands slidding up her sides. If she didn't feel knotted in the stomach she would have acknowledged that it tickled. Once it was off Rachel moved forward, arms wrapping around shoulders in a hug me and Quinn was surprised by the action, completely thrown as her arms stayed off to the side and said in a dull tone, "I'm not your boyfriend."

She pulled away but didn't say anything for a brief second and then meet Charlie's eyes and said, "your heart is beating too fast."

A dry chuckle escaped Quinn's throat. In annoyance she replied "lucky me…if I'm stuck in this body at least it won't be long if it's killing me,"she finished and stared at the ground. Rachel just shook her head, out of pity or irritation Quinn couldn't tell as she started to undue the button to the pants. Quickly Quinn moved away from her.

"Woah, I can handle this," she said as her voice rose, "I've undressed myself and taken showers before," she continued, trying to joke, an attempt to make the situation less awkward as the foreigh hands and arms started to shake.

"Stop joking, you're shaking, and this isn't helping anything," she said raising her voice a little.

"I'm fine," Quinn tried again to be convincing in a more controlled tone but lacked conviction.

"No, you can barely stand," she said growing exasperated. "This is ridiculous and stupid," she amost spat out. And then she does something unexpected. Quinn watched with widened eyes as Rachel took off her shirt and stood in a black tank top and small shorts. She moved gracefully and turned on the water. Quinn's brain halted, misfired and crashed a little as she stared at her, eyes going wide. Again Rachel moved her hands closer to the shaking figure to try to help undressing. Quinn turned away abruptly, head spinning for a brief moment in response.

"Just let me do it," she said with her back turned to her. Rachel waited patiently but Quinn could feel the smaller girl's tension. "You don't have to be here," she told her gently.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked matching the calm tone. Quinn thought it over._ I could pass out or I may not but either way I shouldn't be here with his girlfriend. _Against her will she took off the pants slowly, realizing she needed to take a shower and relax or the headache was going to get worse. Once the pants were removed and she was left standing in the the boxer briefs she got with an owl on it and noticed the small smile on Rachel's lips.

"I shouldn't be here with you," she said as she wrapped her arms around her midsection while the shaking continued.

"Because you're not my boyfriend?" she asked seriously.

"It's complicated," Quinn admitted as she looked at Rachel who seemed perfectly fine, she wasn't shaking and a light sheen of mist or sweat was forming on her upper chest, but Quinn noticed she glistened and almost cursed Santana that she was right.

"Then say what you're thinking," she said in a demanding tone though still managed to be soft.

"Can I just take a shower?" Quinn asked, shift her weight from one foot to the other. Rachel slowly moved out of the way allowing Quinn to slid the door open and get in. For a few seconds she stoof there and let the water relax the muscles and relished in the calming sounds of flowing water to break apart the pain. She didn't hear when the door opened again or feel Rachel stand in front of her until Rachel hesitantly placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

When the pained girl opened her eyes she immediatly stepped back a little. There were too many thoughts, just building and pounding in her head. One of them being that Rachel looked cold suddenly as she stood away from the warm; cold and vulnerable. Against her better judgement Quinn took a step closer to her and held out her hands a little, barely away from her body, but it was an offering nonetheless. The singer slowly moved towards her, still with hesitation. This was straining for both of them, it couldn't be anymore obvious they were both weary and second guessing eachother if trust was earned, if they should reach out to one another. Quinn made her decision as she gently embraced her. Rachel moved into Charlie to do the same. It was just a hold, but Quinn felt comforted, something settled inside her, and with a sigh, a release of tension she felt Rachel squeeze her tighter to stop her from shaking.

"I'm sorry," Quinn finally said in a whisper as they both moved their bodies a little more so they fit together better.

"For what?" she asked, lifting her head, her lips close to Charlie's jaw making Quinn pause, hesitating with her answer.

"For not being who you want," she finally got out, loosening her grip around a small waist as she exclaimed what she wanted to when they were in high school. There was always that voice in the back of her saying Rachel didn't deserve the torment, that it was void of reason and if she was less of a coward she would treat Rachel with respect, become her friend and treat her how she wanted Finn or Jessie or Puck to treat her.

"You're making this complicated," she replied point blankly.

"No, I'm not…" she said trailing off as her stomach felt another wave of pain rush through it making her knees give out, causing her to crouch down. Thank god or the devil-Sue Sylvester for teaching her how to fall as her hands caught her, but Quinn instinctively wrapped her hands around her knees. There was no desire to stand up again so she remained kneeling. Rachel at that point had let go and kneeled directly in front of her, as though an adult would a child, though it was without any condescention.

"Q," she said softly, "say what you mean," she pleaded. Quinn wanted to, god in hell did she want to but the headache started to come back just as it was beginning to fade away.

"I…like being with you and you…kissed me…I don't have a right…to be with you…if my girlfriend was..." she said unable to finish it as her head got a small lightning storm of pain, it was more akin to a small jab that radiated out and she clench her eyes closed, pinched in between my nose and then look down at the water. A small trace of blood was running down towards the drain. Quinn looked up to see if Rachel was hurt but fear and worry stared back, as she places a hand over her mouth. "What?" Quinn asked.

"Your nose," she said as she rested her hand near Quinn's temple. The former blonde reached up to her nose and pulled back my hand to see a little bit of redness on the fingertops that became pink as the water hit it, only to see it mingle with the water until it isn't there anymore as though it was never there, just an allusion.

"Oh," she said out loud, "that's new" she finished in shock as she leaned her head back, feeling the pressure was too much with her head bent before. Again she closed blue eyes and felt the water hit her face followed by soft fingertips moving gently and smoothly rubbing away the water and blood beneath her nose. Her fingers lingering over Charlie's lips as she brushed away the blood. "Please stop," Quinn just above a whisper. A part of her didn't want Rachel to stop, another part wanted her words to be drowned out by the shower, but when Rachel kept her hand roaming over Charlie's features Quinn moved the small hand away and started to get up, using the wall for support.

"Q," she said with alarm as she gripped Charlie's arm.

"Quinn, that's what the Q is for," she said with barely opened eyes, looking at Rachel through slits to see her face. "This is another...fact that makes it..complicated," she added as the headache started to numb itself again. The light wasn't bothering her as much but she closed her eyes after Rachel hadn't said anything or hit her, something Quinn was expecting, but Rachel didn't do anything.

While her eyes were closed she noticed her body felt better and had stopped shaking, the pain had vanished completely and she could tell her nose had stopped bleeding. To her surprise Rachel put her hands and arms gently on broad shoulders and pulled Quinn closer to her, resting her head on the bare shoulder since she was slouched down. Tense arms were out to her sides, making sure not to touch her after Quinn had gotten over the shock of Rachel leaning in further. If she had thought about it she shouldn't have been shocked. This was Rachel Berry, accepting, eccentric girl that she was, she wasn't about to push someone away...Quinn had been horrible to her throughout high school and Rachel hadn't pushed her away then.

"How is it complicated…besides the body switch?" she asked slowly, trying to wrap her head around it. "You're a guy, right? Quinn is a guy's name...though I knew one female Quinn...," the smaller woman trailed off, lost in thoughts. Quinn looked down at the floor for a brief moment and then focused on the wall. She had to admit she liked being with Rachel, she didn't mind the kissing, though it was very brief, but she knew she should mind and on some she did because it wasn't right or fair.

Then she drifted to self-depricating thoughts-_I'm unhappy, I'm sure Rachel's unhappy, freaking Charlie hasn't come to the coffee shop and it's been open for a few weeks, my body could be in a morgue without my knowing and she asks how is it complicated._

The former girl hadn't spoken quickly enough it seemed because Rachel looked up at her expecting an answer and then shivered a little. The water had become cold she finally realized and slowly turned the singer around, away from the stream of water to turn it off.

"Would you mind if we…stepped out to get warm," she asked slowly. Rachel nodded and stepped out, leaving Quinn to follow. Almost grumbling she picked up her clothes and threw them into the bedroom just as she grabbed a towel and wrapped it around Rachel's shoulders and grabbed another to wrap around her own waist, still feeling strange that it wasn't around her body higher up.

Quinn smiled crookedly at her, more in embarrassment of being in a towel in front Rachel who gave a small smile back. As a distraction and another hold off of the conversation she picked up their clothes and headed to the bedroom, stopping before the black framed mirror she had hung in the small hallway to see if her nose was bleeding without her knowledge. It wasn't but she glared back at the reflection, noticing the stubble that was forming on the jaw line and chin.

While she was looking the reflection over Rachel went into the bedroom to change into some dry clothes. "What color are your eyes? They're the window to the soul," Rachel said calmly, though her voice carried over the distance.

"Depends on my mood," she admitted.

"Can't you ever give a straight answer?" She heard Rachel groan, her natural projection reaching her from across the room.

"Hazel." Quinn said finally offered with a disconnected tone as she looked at blue eyes. They were nice, a light shade, almost grey, but they weren't hers and somewhere in her heart she knew Rachel was right. They were the windows to the soul. Its why Quinn failed to look at Rachel's eyes when she insulted her, knowing there would be tears or an indication that she had caused her damage.

The smaller woman came back wearing another one of Charlie's sweaters resulting in a frown from Quinn once Rachel stood to the side of her, examining her without any break from her gaze.

"I didn't pack a lot of clothes," she said nonchalantly. Quinn nodded in response, not knowing what to say until her brain caught up.

"If you want we could go shopping or if you feel more comfortable you could go with someone else," She offered and Rachel's eyebrows rose in obvious disbelief.

"You'd like to go shopping with me?" Her frown deepened as she looked at Quinn who finally responded without thinking.

"I am a girl, I can handle shopping," She said somewhat defensively.

"You're a girl? And your name's Quinn?" her eyes widened. And Quinn could swear she could hear Rachel's brain working, the gears clicking into place.

"Middle name," she whispered, knowing it would be the first nail in the coffin as she watched Rachel's eyes enlarge.

"First name?" Rachel asked in a similar tone, voice hushed, both already knowing the answer.

Quinn gulped, it went against her nature to be so forthcoming about information, giving away anything that told about herself. She had overheard Finn say that she played her emotions close to the chest, her ex, very brief girlfriend said she was fed up with how Quinn would always be a damn mystery, her words, not Quinn's.

"Lucy," she mumbled, hating the name, how it was someone else, a person who studdered, had bad skin, was overweight, was at the bottom and the focus of torment, an easy scapegoat for people to feel better about themselves as they probably thought-at least I'm not that girl.

Silence, hard, painful silence. A trait that didn't come with Rachel Berry who took five minutes to explain something that would have taken most thrity seconds. But she was thankful Rachel hadn't run out of the apartment. She just stood there with narrowed eyes, observing Quinn. "Not going to ask my last name?" Quinn asked, breaking the eye contact.

Rachel scoffed, sounding offended. "Why would I have to? Fabray. Quinn freaking Fabray!" She shouted as she got up and moved away from the former girl. Rachel acted like she had just been burned or slapped in the face. Quinn had almost smiled feeling deja vu since weeks ago she had screamed in her head Charlie freaking Fabray, how being a Fabray wasn't all it was cracked up to be, how even after his death her father caused her problems. But instead she flinched from Rachel's words and the rejection she felt.

"Told you it was complicated," she said to the empty room as the bedroom door slammed shut. A flinch crossed over her again as she thought _well she still does her diva storm outs...at least that's familiar._


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Short chapter, but more to come. Feel free to make suggestions. I'm too tired to continue more for the chapter. At least there's more Rachel now, but this story is just bizarre. I'm used to realism so thanks to anyone reading this since this is my least favorite story.

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><p>Ten minutes of sitting on the couch in silence felt more like she was waiting for her execution. She was tense, her shoulders were stiff and she was feeling cold. When a shiver went down her entire spin she got up and slowly made her way to the bedroom and peaked in. Rachel was on the bed, her back facing the door and Quinn noticed steady breathing.<p>

At least Rachel was asleep, she assumed ad she quietly took out a pain of jeans she had bought a week ago that were slimming but not skinny jeans on guys, knowing she'd look ridiculous, bower brief, almost grumbling as her hand grabbed one because she missed her undearwear, and a light grey t-shirt. Gently closing the door behind her she went back to the bathroom and put everything on. Rolling her shoulders she tried to loosen the muscles but failed when she looked back in the mirror and knew she needed to shave. Now she glared at the reflection. She found it absurd she had to shave, it was bizarre, weird as hell was one of her first thoughts at the first attempt. The last time it took amost ten minutes. The first time it took nearly twenty.

The towel against her face was rough, even though she had run it under hot water to open the pores. She made a mental note to buy fabric softener as she hung it back up, nearly having a heart attack when she saw Rachel out of the corner of her eye.

"Give someone a heart attack," she almost yelled. "Just what I need," she grumbled as she looked in the sink and started to clean it. "Can I help you?" She asked with an edge, clearly annoyed.

"Are you always this defensive?" Rachel asked as she kept peering at Quinn intently but spoke calmly. "I feel like you've gotten worse since high school, " she added to the floor. Quinn shrugged and looked back into the mirror. She almost laugh out loud at her cynical thoughts. She wasn't an ice queen anymore, she couldn't say-Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all? She knew she wasn't even a contestant now. Clenching her jaw she narrowed her eyes at the reflection. It never got old, seeing what was presented back to her. She was careful to avoid touching Rachel in anyway, her back grazing the tile wall as the smaller girl moved into the bathroom.

"I have my reasons," Quinn said as she stared into the mirror and took out the shaving cream from the medicine cabinet.

"Well…would you care to enlighten me?" she said in a demanding yet patient tone, as if expecting that her former high school peer would put up some fight. Quinn glanced at her and then the mirror again and began to put shaving cream over the stubble, but still feelt her gaze on her; unwavering and honed.

"You make me feel slightly self conscious," she said to the mirror as though looking at a stranger was easier than the girl she had spent four years with, almost four years of secretly loving her and from self-preservation she wasn't going to admit, ever, that Rachel always made her feel unsteady. It was one of the reasons Quinn was so horrible to her. Lash out first before the person knows you're scared, seem strong to distract the person, never let down your guard. Those were lessons her father had practically raised her with. Not those exact words but the sentiment was there. Fabrays were born to conquer. If her father could see her now she's pretty sure of the many things he would say-freak would be one of them.

By now Quinn was too deep in thought as she picked up the razor and started to the process realizing this was all an attempt to keep busy and avoid talking to Rachel.

"Why?" The singer asked slowly as the former girl washed off the blade as a small line of water trickled from the faucet.

The sigh couldn't be stopped. "Because I don't know if I should act a certain way or be myself or act like…a guy but ultimately I have no idea how so I'm stuck not knowing what exactly to say or do," she said slowly, still not bothering to look at Rachel. Silence took over and Quinn continued to shave, amazed she hadn't cut herself.

"Charlie complained often. You don't talk much, you never really did throughout high school...he wasn't much of a reader either and based on your extensive book collection you've accumulated here you clearly read a lot so you haven't changed that much since our youth. And I don't know what it is but I think guys assume women go blind when they adjust themselves. Charlie used to do it all the time. You never do. For which I'm thankful for. But you're both incredibly different. He could be very sweet, though he's never opened the door for me. He's never been interested in art, he was great in bed." Rachel said everything matter of factly.

Quinn felt a sharp pain and realized she cut herself. Dropping the razor into the sink she cupped her fingers under the faucet after letting out a small hiss and brought the water up near her chin to get the shaving cream away. It mingled with the blood, the red coming out and seemed blaring until it became pink as the liquid moved together. Rachel came to stand next to her and made Quinn turn her head so she could look at the fresh cut. A soft hand brought Quinn's chin down to look into guilty eyes. Emotions were always obvious on Rachel, she wore them well, it was why she was on Broadway. "I'm sorry, I'll get you a bandaid." She offered but didn't turn to move. Quinn shook her head out of Rachel's gentle hold.

"Fine. Can you wait outside while I finish?" She replied robotically.

"I thought we could talk more or maybe you can just...listen?" She said gently. Quinn gave the smallest nod and looked back into the mirror. Rachel caught the glare at the reflection but didn't comment on it, choosing to store the moment in her mind for another day. The blonde was busy thinking about the fact that Rachel slept with her half brother. It was still disturbing to think about. She had to take steadier breathes to control her nearly shaking hand as she resumed the tedious work of shaving.

Still she felt Rachel next to her and though she had taken a step away she could tell the smaller girl wanted to offer help in any way. "You don't have to act a certain way…besides I don't see anything of him in you," she said and looked at the wall.

"Oh" was all she said back as she finished and wiped the cream off, feeling smooth skin under her fingertips. They stared at each other longer now. More accurately Quinn glanced into the mirror and Rachel looked into the mirror at her, a war of reflective sneak peeks really.

"You know… the way you shave is a little ragged," she said in an observant tone, ending the silence. Quinn roll blue eyes at the mirror.

"I'm a girl," she said in defense, voice raising a little. Rachel lifted up her hands as if she's being arrested and smiled slightly. The edges of Quinn's mouth almost did the same realizing that Rachel was being playful and it was actually cute.

"Yes, you're Quinn. The Quinn." She said now with her head tilted, looking far off. Quinn was confused by her wording.

_The Quinn. The Quinn? _

"Charlie's your half brother. But you're in Charlie's body...this is all too much like The Twilight Zone. How are you so calm? And you've been nice to me since I've been here...are you being nice out of guilt for your previous treatment of me? Do you think the switch was karma? Have you thought about what caused this? A full moon maybe?" Rachel said quickly, rattling every question off like a bullet.

"I don't know and pretty sure he's my half brother, some paperwork has been rather telling and I'm not a werewolf Rachel! How lame." She said raising her own voice after her eyes had grown larger with all the fast paced inquiries.

"Do you think.." Rachel started again.

"I don't know," Quinn said tensely, cutting her off. "You know what. Not everyone is like you and knows what they want from the age of five, no one has their life mapped out like that!" She said, full of resentment that Rachel had her life figured out, that it was solid and full of potential as she lived her dream, when her own was up in the air. And god it was so much easier to lash out at her, an easy target, convenient scapegoat that allowed her to hide behind her fears that she really had no clue how to deal with Charlie's life. Cruel words were a weapon, as always, and a diversionary tactic Quinn was comfortable with, relying on her Queen Bitch persona.

Rachel stood stunned. Unaware that she was making Quinn's head hurt, making her panic and her body wind tighter like a coil. She was too shocked by the words to process that even under the calm facade the former blonde was ready to lose any sembance of control. "There's the Quinn Fabray I remember," she said sadly and turned out of the bathroom back to the bedroom.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Overdue update hm? A little longer than the previous chapter. The next one will be longer. Not lying. Alright after moving, misplacing the notebook that had the first part of the chapter in it (likely it's been stolen, odd but very likely) and computer dying and not having time I thought I'd fit it in and note that Naya and Amber singing the Adele mash-up was amazing. Adore Lea and her talent, but Naya seems better suited for Adele. Also glee is just glum, thank Faberry because those are the only worthwhile moments to me. But on a very random note this story is ridiculous, just random. I miss writing my other story but that's finished. Of course moments are taken from my life, moments, certainly not all because they wouldn't be Rachel and Quinn would they? It would just be an incredibly random story. Oh and of course I've never switched bodies with someone, that's insane, but if I did and I turned into a guy I'd be livid. Guys smell bad. Anyone else notice that? When I go to the gym and even if a guy is 3 machines away from me god they smell gross. Maybe my pheromones are just that uninterested. And if you read this far just wow. Are you bored? To the chapter then…

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><p>Apologize. Apology. To feel remorse. Quinn was breaking down what she should do in her head like a textbook. One of the building issues was even if she apologized she knew it wouldn't be enough so instead she kept distance from Rachel and moved to sit on the couch. The position she sat in was far too similar to a gargoyle but she was too busy brooding to be aware. Every word of an apology would be too late. Rachel was her human punching bag in high school. At Yale she had finally had a chance to breathe and discover herself outside of the stifling town of dead end Lima. She spent hours daydreaming of going on dates with Rachel if she was ever given the chance, swooning at the little things that used to drive her insane but realized were Rachel's painfully cute moments. How composed she seemed but would slightly fidget. Quinn wanted the little things, to gently take her hand and calm Rachel when she fidgeted, perhaps as she was about to sign another contract. She imagined no matter how many times and meetings Rachel went through she'd still be a little neurotic and a bit of a spaz about every detail and fine print.<p>

And now Quinn was again alone, vulnerable to her own mind, a thing that she knew could be her own demise. There were too many layers, so many parts of her life that overlapped that it always became so clear and muffled all at once. Almost like being in a wind tunnel, but now it was more like a snow storm where there was nothing around her, but if she squinted she could see herself standing far away.

The muscles in her back were growing stiff and she was too deep into her thoughts that she didn't hear Rachel come into the open living room, part kitchen. Maybe it was because Rachel could be graceful and poised, but Quinn didn't open her eyes until she more felt the presence of someone in the room.

Rachel looked fierce-ready for a battle, full out war, bloody and brutal. Quinn thought she looked beautiful. The woman she knew Rachel would become-a doesn't take anyone's emotional or verbal bullshit and would own a room when doing it. The smaller woman didn't need to put her hands on her hips, a move that was still a very Rachel Berry circa high school mannerism that Quinn almost smirked at considering how endearing it was, how familiar is seemed. The former blonde half expected a storm out, but instead Rachel still stood, solid and prepared. She should have prepared herself, she should have known Rachel was going to talk but Quinn was barely coming out of her heady fog. It was until the brunette in all her fury was standing in front of her, peering down at her asking-"Did you hear me?" did Quinn shake her head slowly and try to focus more.

"What?" She asked uncertainly. Her voice cracking and her instinct to roll her eyes was stopped as she lifted her eyes to meet the singer's.

"I said you're a miserable creature." Rachel repeated, but with less venom than the first time. Nonetheless it made Quinn's eyes widen. She had never heard Rachel say anything nearly that cruel. It was jarring, it was painful and Quinn moved further back into the couch, away from Rachel who now seemed too close. It finally registered almost an entire minute later that Rachel didn't even view her as human. She was subhuman. She wasn't even on the same level. That fucking stung. Quinn looked away, feeling water form in her eyes. She wasn't about to let Rachel see her tear up.

"Get the hell out," Rachel said coldly, now with her arms across her chest, still peering down at Quinn, making it more than obvious that the former cheerleading captain, enemy, barely friend, felt inferior. Quinn flinched. It was the first reaction that couldn't be glazed over and smoothed out. Years of not acting and being the ice queen made her reactions come up easier, more on the surface and for a second Rachel felt the immediate desire to take it back as she watched Quinn shut her eyes, tightly, clearly attempting to push out the world. Out of sight, out of mind, right? The former blonde stayed sitting, more like rock more than ever. Rachel barely saw breath come out, the rise and fall of the chest, and she almost reached out to make sure Quinn hadn't petrified.

Get the hell out. Get The Hell Out. GET THE HELL OUT. It was on repeat in Quinn's head. She'd heard it before. Her father say it to her when her pregnancy was discovered, her mother later said it when she came out before going to college. Luckily her things were already in a moving vehicle with Santana's things since they were both going to school on the east coast and they both knew they'd take New York City by storm; Santana in her own way, by sheer force, bravado and sex appeal, Quinn by quiet strength and natural grace that people naturally were drawn to. And of course Britt with her dancing, quirky personality and enthusiasm. Quinn left her childhood house faster than was planned, though the second time her things weren't thrown into garbage bags, there was some comfort in that, but sure, it still stung like a bitch slap. Get the hell out. A message first from her father, then years later her mother, cementing to Quinn that unconditional love is a fantasy, an ideal concept that is shown in movies and tv. Get the hell out taught her to leave, to cut herself out, to harden, place emotions behind a nice brick wall that was reinforced with steel bars. God, some clichés were too appropriate.

Turning her head and looking up at Rachel she saw the coldness of beautiful brown eyes. Rachel was never cold, never intentionally cruel, but Quinn breathed in, a sharp intake through her nose that made her chest feel tight. She made Rachel bitter and mean, something she hated herself for. This was Rachel Berry-Miss Optimist, Miss Dream Big, Miss Give-Someone-A-Second-Chance.

"I'm not here to ruin your life," was all Quinn said, barely above a whisper as she slowly stood up and made sure not to touch the smaller girl who had stepped back quickly as Quinn chanced a glance at Rachel to see brown eyes flash with hurt, confusion, worry, and anger that was dissipating. The former girl moved swiftly to the bedroom and grabbed a backpack from the closet and began to put clothes in, too busy and running on autopilot to notice Rachel standing at the open entrance looking at her intently. Quinn had wanted to add, "I'm sorry, for getting in the way of your life" but was too focused on leaving.

"What are you doing?" Rachel sighed, still confused at how Quinn seemed robotic and somehow used to packing quickly or in a hurry. The question was ignored and Rachel tilted her head to the side, trying to see Charlie's face. It was important and crucial. The only way to really talk to Quinn, as she remembered, was to see her, every facial expression, every twitch, elongated blinks, slight intern of lips. Rachel always thought Quinn was subtle and had wondered if that was the appeal, that Quinn always left people wanting more, but a muscled back was to her and Rachel missed the palm of Quinn's hand coming up to the edge of Charlie's eyes to stop any tears from getting out. Quinn could handle them watering, but she hated it when anyone hurt her and made her cry. Crying only counted when the tears fell, when they hit your cheeks, when you really feel them and she hated it.

"Quinn, what are you doing?" Rachel tried softer and was glad Quinn had waited to turn around then because if she had seen the intense blue eyes, a blue that Charlie never had she wouldn't have been able to get her words out.

The bag was shouldered and Quinn looked down at Rachel, still standing a safe five feet away from her. "What you told me to do," she said without any emotion. There wasn't any resentment, no anger, just a sort of defeat and Rachel couldn't remember when she'd ever heard Quinn so monotone, so devoid of emotion like she was gone.

"Well I didn't think you were actually listening," the brunette said with a frown as she leaned against the doorframe not realize how well Quinn took direction, how fasts he was to give into the demand. She never took Quinn as one to follow commands. Everything was throwing her, how tense Quinn looked, how defensive, how rigid all her actions were as she kept grabbing what appeared to be essentials. "I..," she tried but was cut off.

"I always listened." She whispered, glancing at Rachel again then her eyes went back to the floor as she moved out of the room, overly conscious to avoid any physical contact. Rachel registered Quinn walking away, some shuffling noises as she assumed she was putting on shoes after she had heard the former girl gather more things. She was constructing her monologue to explain that she said things in the heat of the moment, a trait that never went away, her flare for the dramatics and the quiet really allowed her to focus on her choice of words. It wasn't until it was overwhelmingly silent, too quiet did she realize Quinn had left, slipped out, leaving a heavy atmosphere and a small piece of paper on the table. Brown eyes narrowed on the neat handwriting, how old fashioned it almost seemed in its swirl and gentle swoops of certain letters. It was almost romantic how it was on such a small sheet of paper and the words were made with a quality pen, though the ink was still wet and glossy.

I'm sorry.

It said.

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><p>Author's Note: Hate it? Its not the end. I know how the next chapter will go but if anyone has suggestions feel free.<p> 


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: A reviewer guessed right. Time for Santana to come back and make with the wonderfully harsh comments. This story is longer than I expected, but it's fun. Certainly not what I would say is good writing, but enjoyable. The dialog is my main concern. And there are long breaks between updates because I get distracted by music, books, the chance to work out, but here we go…

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><p>"Rachel Fucking Berry." Every word was said clearly and with intensity. The tone clearly not caring that other patrons would hear. " What did you say to her?" A beautiful woman said as she strode into the coffee shop like she owned the place. The singer was too stunned to say anything and stood off to the side of the counter, having talked with Sam, trying to get any information from her where Quinn might be. Now Rachel was shocked to see Santana standing two feet away from her, in stiletto heels and a black, classy dress that made her seem both polished and powerful. The taller of the two tan women narrowed her eyes before drifting over to Sam and ignored the former glee captain for a moment.<p>

"S, clean up your mess before you leave the apartment. Britt almost tripped on your crap. Now I wants a nice free coffee, mocha latte, extra whipped cream and a shot of vanilla." Sam only rolled her eyes but moved further behind the counter, not before she glanced at Rachel and gave her an apologetic look.

"You can't talk to the workers that way, I don't think Quinn would be happy." Rachel practically mumbled.

"I can talk to her however I please, she's my sister and how I converse with my family is the least of her problems." Santana said with renewed venom. Now what did you say to her. Exact words," she said, cutting to the chase. The Broadway star shook her head, thinking she hadn't woken up yet. This is just a nightmare, a variation of her usual nightmares of people yelling at her. "Today freak." She added, impatiently. "Verbatim," she demanded.

"We both said things. I…she…it was a visceral reaction, likely from years of wanting to yell at Quinn or at the least shake her." Rachel started and said more to the wall. "I said she's a miserable creature and to get the hell out." She finished, looking at the floor. By the time she looked up Santana had the coffee in her hand. It had to have been minutes after she had admitted what had taken place less than twenty-four hours ago. "Why are you so quiet?" Rachel asked wearily as Santana looked like she was calculating, planning as her eyes narrowed.

"I'm trying to form a valid defense and reason for the court after I rip out your vocal chords. You can do an off Broadway show in sign language." She said with a chill that could have made Antarctica seem like a blissful vacation spot. Rachel took a step back from the former cheerleader.

"Might I add that violence is not the solution?" Rachel said, gaining some of her confidence back.

"No, because you deserve worse. You have no clue what you've said and the damn weight of it. Did you even ask why she was leaving?" The taller of the two said with widened eyes.

"No…I asked where she was going."

"You're a good actress." She said with a tilt to her head at the slight compliment. "You know nothing about emotions but you sing about them every day." Santana jabbed. She wouldn't have ever complimented Rachel on emotions years ago, of course because she was trying to bury her own throughout most of high school.

That struck a nerve in Rachel's heart. It was expected Santana would take a hit to her height, her clothes, but never her talent. They had respected one another before on talent alone, but Rachel knew plenty about emotions, how they could be your greatest weapon or downfall.

"I know emotions. I know that you've always been oddly protective of Quinn and Brittany, but she didn't say anything, she didn't show anything." Rachel said in confusion, the moments practically replaying in her head.

"You're a moron." She said factually and before Rachel could say the words that were threatening to come from her half open mouth Santana continued. "When you say the EXACT words that her mother and father used when they kicked her out of the house she's going to leave. It's called shutting down. You need to borrow one of her psych books. Or maybe just pull your head out of your ass and pay attention to Q. You can NEVER take her at face value. That's my tip of the day." She tilted her head to the side again and really examined Rachel. The skirts were gone, which was kind of a shame Santana thought, but she had on dark jeans and a sweater that was made for a grown up. Clearly with her Broadway status she was able to afford better clothes or a stylist. "Now fix it," she finished, turned and left as quickly as she came in.

A chair was Rachel's savior, though she would have settled for a wall. A few minutes of sitting in a chair and not really catching what Sam was trying to say to her, at best it was ever other word, she decided to get air. The coffee shop smelled too rich and she needed the New York City air.

It was too much. It hit her, with the help of Santana's verbal assault that she hadn't seen Quinn in five days. Something could have happened to her and her breath was catching midway between her chest and throat. Santana yelling at her was triggering, what she thought to be post traumatic stress she had been avoiding for years in her climb to Broadway. It really served as a great goal and distraction; a nonverbal fuck you to everyone you doubted her, her hurled insults at her, some that didn't even make the least bit of sense. But if she didn't hyperventilate and pass out she was going to raise her voice to her therapist.

On the way out she bumped into a table, immediately hissed at the abrupt pain and limped out. That's going to be a bruise later, she grumbled under her breath, chin tucked into her neck as she pushed the heavy door open.

_I don't remember that door being so cumbersome. _She thought but it seemed easier as someone pulled the rest of it open and placed a lower hand on her back. It would have been disturbing if she hadn't have know that hand, the feel of it.

Quinn didn't miss the look of consideration that passed over Rachel's features as her thumb pressed soothing circles into the smaller woman's spin.

Someone the former blonde assumed was a fan or at least a girl who recognized Rachel said with a mixture of annoyance and awe-You have to be famous to get a nice guy. And Quinn didn't miss the twitch from Rachel's lips. The corners coming up a little as the singer thought-_if she only knew. _

Finally she looked up at who she assumed would be Quinn but was met with Charlie's eyes. For a moment she was disappointed. Two seconds at most, but Quinn saw the disappointment, and in turn felt like she was coming up short, as always, steps behind Rachel, and dropped her hand from the smaller girl's back, almost cursing herself for even touching her. Instead she tilted her head to the side and avoided looking at her, debating to ignore her or have an empty conversation with her or at least see if she was okay. Then again last time they talked…okay, scratch the last one, Rachel didn't deserve her sympathy. The internal struggle was more than obvious to the singer who noticed Quinn tense and body language come off as cold, nearing icicle levels.

Fix it. Santana's voice kept saying in her head and moved into Quinn who seemed stone-like again, as though some weird gargoyle DNA was spliced into her.

To Quinn falling into the embrace was painful for a multitude of reasons; her parents rarely hugged her, they rarely hugged each other, she saw her father place his hand on his mother's shoulder but it always came off as possessive. But even as Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's midsection she couldn't fight it. The body was responding like muscle memory and if she was going to admit it to herself, which she wouldn't out loud…she liked that Rachel was embracing her. Quinn was feeling something close to secure until she remembered Rachel yelling get the fuck out and it felt claustrophobic. She moved as though she was shaking the embrace off and pushed the former glee captain away as gently as possible.

Smoothly she turned and went into the coffee shop, ignoring Rachel as though they hadn't ran into one another at all. The brunette closed her eyes, tilted her head up and breathed in deep, then pivoted and followed after Quinn. Her eyes scanned over the room and finally caught the former blonde leaning against the counter near the register, trying to get Sam to agree to something apparently as the smaller girl kept shaking her head. Being that she was Rachel Berry she marched over to the counter with purpose. She could take Broadway by storm, win a Tony, she could certainly have a conversation with Quinn Fabray.

"Quinn," she tried with a professional voice only to be ignored completely. "Quinn," she tried again and this time Sam looked at her with something akin to pity and a little of hostility. Ah Rachel could see the resemblance to Santana now. She nearly gulped but cleared her throat again and said, "Q." The eyeroll wasn't missed and Rachel almost rolled her eyes back. "Quinn, you're being silly."

"Yes, I'm know for my comedy act," she said in a deadpan voice.

"You should stay here, in case Charlie comes back." She added the last part softer.

"No," she said in all serious and without any interest seeing as how that would mean being with Rachel, well…living with her. And although Rachel nearly as much as a diva as she expected she still didn't want to tolerate her. She'd tolerated many things in her life and was just tired of it.

"Fine," Rachel huffed, expected the answer anyway, "but I can't stay here and wait for him to show up."

"Jesus…he's not MY boyfriend, I just want my body back," she said in an angry whisper.

"I have to go back to work, I'm only here for short periods" Rachel tried to reason as she spoke calmly and noticed from the corner of her eyes that Sam looked liked she was watching an intense tennis match or maybe Russian roulette. "Something Charlie didn't like," she mumbled quietly.

"Can't blame the guy," Quinn said as she crossed her arms over a broader chest. God she missed her body. She only left her apartment because Santana sent her a text there was an emergency at the café and being that she was only a few blocks away she was able to get there fast.

"Excuse me?" Rachel said with narrowed eyes.

"Go to work, you can stay at my place." She said ignoring the brunette's question and tone altogether.

"Won't you be lonely?" Rachel asked with concern. For a split second Quinn wanted to say she was practically an only child most of her life, she hadn't talked to anyone in her family for years so lonely was just a state of being she had gotten used to.

"I'll get a dog," she mumbled.

"Why can't I blame him?" Rachel asked, set on getting an answer from Quinn. "He's so moody. Is that a Fabray thing? I've never met your parents. Are they temperamental often? Its genetic." She rambled in a factual manner and the singer briefly looked at Sam who's eyes enlarged and mouth slightly hanging open, not having heard Rachel ramble since she had been sulking for a few days.

"I wouldn't know," she said in a gruff voice. That was another thing she couldn't stand. Quinn missed her voice. She didn't like how Charlie's voice couldn't be controlled.

"What do you mean you don't know? And why can't I blame him? You keep avoiding that." Rachel asked with her full attention on Quinn again.

"What is this twenty questions?" Quinn asked with a frown.

"You're deflecting again," Rachel said patiently as she watched Quinn take a deep breath, close her eyes for a moment and open them again, only she see they were a deeper blue.

"If I had a girlfriend who I rarely saw and I knew she was this crazy, but amazing person I'd want to spend time with her. Not when it fits into her schedule."

"I need popcorn for this," Sam said and both Rachel and Quinn turned to her with frowns on their faces until the singer focused on the former cheerleader again.

"You mean boyfriend," she said factually. "Quinn, you were very good in English, are you confused on pronouns?" Rachel asked in all seriousness.

"First-I double majored in English and I meant girlfriend," she said without emotion. When she was in her body she was tired of having to defend herself when she got hit on by guys and told they she wasn't interested. "Second-Sam can you..go..do something..anything?" She hadn't dated for years since she had a specific type so at some point she joked with Santana and asked, "Can I be gay if I'm not dating anyone?"

Now her type to a damn t was standing in front of her and she noticed every minute detail from Rachel. How her nose wrinkled a little as she frowned at the statement. Even Quinn found that rather adorable as she watched Rachel piece it together then gasp dramatically. Quinn stopped herself from smiling at how Rachel Berry the response was, but a smirk still formed on her lips.

"Those tables look like they need a wipe down." Sam said and walked away, humming to herself.

"Do you want a coffee?" Quinn asked to break up the awkward silence, her back tense again and coldness coming off her in waves. The question was safe and if she felt like being a bitch she could charge Rachel a hundred dollars for it. She hadn't felt this judged in a long time. It was almost like she was pregnant again and she was viewed as this horrible person without any morals.

"Quinn…oh Quinn, I didn't…I don't have a problem with any of what you said. It would be insane if I had an issue. I have two fathers, as you know, and if I was homophobic and working on Broadway I'm certain I wouldn't have even been nominated for a Tony. Besides I was raised that you fall in love with the person. Simple as that." By the end of her small speech she had relaxed. This was more like a conversation or a discussion at least.

Quinn gawked at her. It wasn't that simple. It had taken years of denial to accept herself, even accept the little girl who she used to be with a different name because she was practically a split personality now. She knew she could be so emotionally reserved like the rest of the Fabray's, but she could also be a book worm. The awkwardness had been basically trained out of her, the speech problem was gone, though sometimes she stammered when nervous, but mostly she seemed like she could own any room she walked in.

"Quinn," Rachel said gently as she placed her hand on Charlie's hand and sighed when Quinn immediately moved her hand away, almost as though she were burned. The brunette was running out ideas, but didn't want to leave Quinn to her thoughts. This was like high school Quinn, the one who seemed cut off as she sat in glee with that fake smile on her lips that went away as soon as someone wasn't looking. The issue was, Rachel looked when the then cheerleader had a book in her lap and seemed like she was about to fall apart. "Do you want to come to the workshop with me? I always perform better with an audience," she smirked. "Or at least walk with me," she finished with sincerity.

Since Quinn hadn't taken off the thick sweater that still made Charlie's body seem slim she moved away from behind the counter slowly and just said "Sure" without any hint of emotion. Rachel almost flinched at how Quinn was closing up again. Vaults were nothing compared to a Fabray she realized since Charlie was the same way.

"I just have to get my jacket," she said as she moved to the back door that led to Charlie's apartment. Quinn followed with a great deal of space between them. When they were finally inside Rachel almost blushed at what was playing. She'd found a Pretty Little Liars marathon somehow even though it was years old. It was playing on something like soapnet.

"I love Pretty Little Liars…it's a guilty pleasure." She said with slight embarrasment. "Though I find it rather disturbing the Emily character looks akin to Santana. Thankfully they don't have similar personalities," Rachel tried at a conversation.

"That's true…though I liked Emily. She was sweet…what little I watched of it. But she had a nice skin tone, great hair, good eyes." She said slowly as Rachel buttoned her coat.

"Oh my god you're attracted to Santana. I always wondered about the cheerleaders…" Rachel trailed off and suppressed her smirk.

"Not at all," Quinn said calmly after she raised an eyebrow. "Santana's too much of a bitch. A fake one now, but I need someone sweet to balance me out. And I like the exact opposite of me," she finished with a shrug but helped Rachel with a button she missed. And Rachel didn't stop it, she nearly felt physical pain from how self-deprecating Quinn's tone was as she placed her hand over Charlie's chest and for a second Rachel cursed that it wasn't Quinn's heart.

For a second Rachel looked down and saw their skin, side by side, the contrast. But what came out of her mouth was, "You're not a bitch Quinn. You don't need someone to compliment you, just someone who understands you."

_Don't we all. _Quinn thought but didn't voice it as she stepped away to the door.

"Ready?"

"Are you going to talk as we head there?" Rachel tried and sounded hopeful but noticed Quinn shake her head and sighed. "If I made a game out of it and tried to keep track of how many times I sigh today I thought I would have lost count," she thought but said aloud, making Quinn stop abruptly. "What?" she asked confused.

"If its work to be in the same room as me then don't." Quinn said bitterly but Rachel saw beyond it and noticed the former blonde was hurt as she stood rigid. Quinn wasn't a bitch. To Rachel her tormentor had her moments… a lot of them, but they were all reactions from something.

"Quinn, if I didn't want you to come with me I wouldn't have asked," she said softly as she moved stray strands o hair behind her ear and Quinn almost commented that the gesture still hadn't changed, but she squared her shoulders and held the back door to the coffee shop for Rachel to go through. To Quinn actions spoke louder than words and it didn't matter that Rachel would never know that glee got pictures in the yearbook because she threatened Sue Sylvester to give up some cheerleading pages.

A small part of Rachel was still shocked by the gesture and part of her wanted to ask Quinn if she'd been on many dates with women. It couldn't have been hard for her. She was charming without trying, probably nicer to people she didn't have a rocky history with and of course Quinn was physically appealing with her classic beauty.

"Mm, how's your back?" Quinn asked, a topic that was safe.

"Oh its fine, nothing really. I could tell you a story about how I fell during a live performance through the trap door because someone didn't latch it and ended with a bruise on my forehead, a rather large bump would be more accurate and still performed." Rachel rambled and Quinn hitched an eyebrow up as though saying-you said that in one breath.

"Who knew Broadway was so dangerous," Quinn said with charm and Rachel smiled lightly, half expecting Quinn to not talk as they went to the workshop.

Unfortunately for Rachel the walk was very short. Shorter than she wanted because this was an opportunity for her to talk with Quinn when they hadn't gotten along for years and hadn't talked for days, but she was content that the girl she could have been friends with once upon a time seemed more relax and was walking closer to her as they entered the building she almost viewed as another home. Broadway was one of them and this was more of an extension of Broadway. The workshops allowed the actors to hone everything, smooth out any issues together and hopefully become flawless.

Quinn saw a good looking guy check Rachel out a minute after she walked through the door. He was too interested in yelling at the pianist to notice she had brought someone until the singer started talking to Quinn in a soft voice about how she could leave if she wanted. The former blonde only shook her head and was surprised to feel Rachel's lips on her cheek giving a very light kiss. Luckily her eyes were open and she noticed the male singer stand straighter as he watched them.

She figured it best not to disturb their workshop but she already had an issue with this guy. She'd learned over the years that talking got you much further than yelling. When he turned and smirked at Rachel in a lecherous way, the slightly possessive side of the former cheerleader wanted to pull Rachel back and say-we should leave. But she knew this was Rachel's passion, the woman was born for this, god her voice was made for it, so instead she leaned against a wall, crossed her arms over her chest and watched.

They go through one song where Rachel, in her opinion was better, just better. No questions asked. She was more talented and the male lead was trying to keep up. It was like watching Finn dance. Except this guy was more of an outward jerk as Quinn noticed him check out Rachel's figure while she walked away to get a bottled water from a small refrigerator.

"When are you going to drop the loser boyfriend?" He asked. And Quinn was glad she didn't know his name so she couldn't ask Santana to do a search later, find his home, ruin his life, and make it seem like an accident. At that point Quinn stepped forward making herself or Charlie more well known as she gracefully came up a foot away from him and was more than five inches on him. "He your keeper?" The guy smirked and looked at Rachel again, ignoring Rachel's boyfriend, clearly assuming he was an idiot because he was tall, in shape and for all intensive purposes a meathead.

"She leaves whenever she wants," she said close to a snarl, the cheerleader in her straining to come out and play. But that sentence stung too. Rachel could leave whenever she wanted, she wasn't obligated to stay and put up with this insane situation, but she continued. "She has the power you tool. I don't. You certainly don't. She does," she stressed again. She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice and instead she came off cold; Charlie's voice dropping and coming off dangerous.

It wasn't until three seconds later she felt a warm hand slip into hers and intertwine their fingers and give a light squeeze. She looked down and saw Rachel with her own smirk, that megawatt Rachel Berry smile threatening to come out. Quinn turned back to the coworker and narrowed her eyes as he stood fuming. "And you were flat." She added critically and felt Rachel squeeze again, a little harder, and slip her hand around Charlie's arm possessively as though saying-he's right and he's mine. And yes, Quinn hated when anyone tried to lay claim to her, but she didn't mind this.

"Roger would you mind if we reschedule?" Rachel asked the pianist nicely. He clearly liked her more than her coworker as he smiled his own little smirk and lightly nodded. "I'll get it arranged, thank you for your time," she said with sincerity. Quinn liked this Rachel, the one that was settled into her talent, didn't have to walk on others or send them to crack houses. She was content and that made Quinn less annoyed and protective. Rachel could handle this like a pro since that's what she was. "Let's go," she said to Quinn as she tugged on the sleeve and gave a flirtatious smile. To Quinn it was obvious Rachel was playing it up and with her tone it was implied they were going to go…for a long makeout…at least that's what Quinn stopped her mind from thinking because the PG-13 version wasn't going to make her have a heart attack. The look on Rachel's coworker's face was priceless though.

Unknown to Quinn, Rachel wasn't joking. She wouldn't have minded a chance to kiss Quinn, she would have willingly accepted it but she knew Quinn would have an issue. And frankly it was too confusing kissing a girl you once knew who was in your boyfriend's body, but they made their way out the door and back onto the city street and Rachel didn't stop it. She pulled Quinn down, her hand near the side of Charlie's face and kissed the cheek again. The action soon becoming something she really enjoyed and it was heightened to love when she saw Quinn blush.

"Wha…wha…" she cleared her voice to make it seem like her stutter wasn't coming back. "What was that for?"

"Who knew Quinn Fabray could be gallant. Looks good on you," Rachel said with a flirtatious edge again.

Not one for compliments, the little, honest ones she'd received over the years she brushed Rachel's comment off and rolled her eyes. "What would you like to do the rest of the day princess?" As she watched Rachel's smile widen, almost demonically, but still looking cute she knew she should retract her question. Giving Rachel Berry full control, artistic license or otherwise was like walking on top a volcano.

"Shopping!" The singer said, giddy and nearly jumped as she clapped her hands together once.

All Quinn could do was roll her eyes and mentally prepare herself for what she assumed would be a hyper diva, but then again, a small part of her didn't mind wandering around with Rachel…as long as she didn't kiss her on the cheek again…or at least give her some warning. Didn't she used to do that when she hugged people? What made her different? A warning would have been appreciated...


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: Okay I'm updating this at work while there's a lull and thank you very much for reviewing, I'm shocked anyone is reading this, but the next update will come sooner. Poor excuses but I've been working a lot, working out too much (it hurts to move right now) and reading pretty much 3 books a week on top of reading fanfiction. (And thank you for disregarding any typos.) Madness-sheer madness. Stay well.

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><p>They walked a few blocks in silence until they hit the subway. Even though both women had lived in New York for a few years Quinn hadn't traveled all the areas. The places she fell in love with she visited frequently. Of course there was S and B's apartment in Greenwich Village, Union Square where she could spend hours in Strand, and when she felt adventurous she'd search for some great hole in the wall restaurant. But she wasn't a huge fan of the tourist hot spots. She loathed Times Square, loved Grand Central because of its history and the ceiling, but if she could find a farmer's market or an antique store she was in heaven. Rachel was taking her Uptown to the trendy stores and she braced herself when they headed down into the subway. It always smelled horrible and she felt bad for the rats that she would occasionally see scurry along the tracks and concrete holes. Her eyes were unfocused and she wasn't paying attention to Rachel. Not that she needed to, they hadn't spoken in a while. There was a comfortable silence that felt surreal.<p>

Quinn began lightly humming, so faintly that she didn't think Rachel would hear her. Her own little world was comfortable, a slice of sanity from the break that was the bizarre reality that she wasn't in her body and humming was something she'd do whenever the mood struck. Walking, doing the dishes, cleaning...she would hum, but never songs, it was always poetry she thought would make wonderful music. She didn't stop until Rachel asked quietly and with obvious curiosity "what are you humming?"

"It's nothing," Quinn dismissed. Slightly embarrassed but of course playing it cool that Rachel heard her. She also didn't want to try singing. It wasn't her voice and she wasn't certain if his vocal chords could sing. She tucked that thought away. If given the chance, when she was next alone she'd try singing. Then again Rachel was always critical and told her she was sharp when she was in her own body.

"It sounded nice." The brunette said naturally, without an air of judgment, just an easy compliment. The former blonde almost blushed but narrowed her eyes when a guy pretending to play drums almost hit Rachel in the face with his movements, forcing the former cheerleader to grab Rachel's hand and pull her into her then glared at the oblivious guy who was making his way along the platform, still lamely air drumming.

"What a tool," she mumbled under her breath and scanned the area for other potentially rude people while Rachel was still pressed into her. The brunette's head was an inch away from laying on Charlie's chest. When she looked down Rachel looked perplexed then her facial expressions softened when she squeezed Quinn's hand, let go and took a small step back just as the train came.

They got on , Quinn following Rachel and saying to herself Do Not check her out. Do NOT. Of course her eyes wandered down for a second and she almost cursed under her breath that they immediately had to stand. Why they decided to shop when most people clearly got off work Quinn didn't know, but she reached up and grabbed the pole. She was surprised to feel Rachel wrap her arms around Charlie's waist and look up with apologetic eyes. Quinn assumed she had a "what are you doing" facial expression when Rachel calmly explained, "If I don't have to touch the poles that are undoubtedly covered in germs I don't," and Quinn almost smirked at that. She couldn't have expected anything else from Rachel but where she heard kids talking and one said get the fuck out of here she flinched. It wasn't intentional but she flinched whenever anyone said that or something similar. The words were another slap across the face and after she opened her eyes again she saw Rachel looking at her with worry. Her back tensed and she shifted away from Rachel, feeling as though the brunette didn't deserve to be touching her after she had said similar words in anger.

Rachel watched and could practically hear Quinn's thoughts, but its not as though she could run away, they were in the subway, but the singer saw the flash of resentment and confusion and hostility that was coming off from Quinn as Charlie's blue eyes became slightly darker.

"Quinn..." she tried but the former blonde only shut her eyes and ignored her. For a second Rachel found it immature but then remembered that Quinn, the Quinn she knew years ago always stayed in her head. She was at times stoic, when she wasn't crying during her pregnancy, she always seemed calm and controlled, but this Quinn was in Charlie's body, likely feeling overwhelmed, she rationalized and forced into this situation. The only thing she could do was focus on the girl she had wanted to be friends with and not pay any mind to the other passengers. And that's how it seemed. She focused on Quinn, her breathing, her closed eyes that were shut so tightly as though she were saying a prayer. Maybe she was, Quinn looked intensely concentrated with Charlie's eyebrows coming together that Rachel thought it looked painful. Reaching up she gently pressed her fingertips near her boyfriend's temple and brushed her thumb near his jaw that Quinn was clenching and unclenching. The action stopped and eyes opened to reveal a startling blue, a blue that Charlie never had before.

Tilting her head to the side, examining Quinn five thoughts popped into Rachel's head but one that was practically screaming was how Quinn's eyes used to change depending on her mood. Now it seemed fitting she was doing the same to Charlie. Rachel finally registered the deer caught in headlights look Quinn was giving her and for a moment Quinn really reminded her of a deer. Graceful, beautiful, and scared as though she was ready to bolt.

"I'm sorry," she said out loud, knowing Quinn would understand what she was apologizing for. Her mind caught up to what her mouth making her say it again only louder. It took a moment for Quinn's eyes to soften, for her back to become less tense and Rachel could Literally feel the shift in mood.

The way Quinn looked at her she could be on the stage and not feel like it was the most important thing to her. There was so much going on beneath that calm surface.

Quinn was thinking the apology seemed late and that Rachel shouldn't be apologizing at all considering she had tormented the girl for years. There was the usual confliction that came when she thought of Rachel. When they were teenagers she had been brutal to her and Rachel always forgave her, now it was her turn.

"Okay," she said as she relaxed her shoulders.

"Okay?" The brunette asked with a deep frown forming. It seemed too easy.

"Ooookaaaay," she said slower and with a slightly mocking tone as though implying Rachel had been dropped on the head as a baby making the brunette push her playfully in exasperation. "Oh yeah, like that's going to do anything. You're tiny." She smirked.

"There's a reason Santana called me dwarf. Were you not paying attention?" She said half jokingly but Quinn could tell the other half was asking why Quinn never defended her when they had respected one another.

"Mmm I'll have a talk with her." She said with a voice that held unwavering conviction.

Of course Rachel played up her diva ways that Quinn had learned weren't diva at all, it was Rachel being snarky and she smirked when the singer responded without missing a beat and with a huff, "If you must."

Quickly Quinn thought it over how that conversation would go. Santana and her didn't get into physical alterations anymore and thank god because being thrown against a locker was one of Quinn's least favorite memories. But she still knew her friend would bristle at being told to go easier on Rachel. It was like telling a snake not to eat a rat after it hadn't consumed anything for months and at that point she didn't realize she clenched her jaw until there was a lot of pain.

"Ahh," she let out as she rubbed at the molars.

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked with genuine concern and growing worried. Quinn let out a sigh, it was bizarre that Rachel cared. She shouldn't. After all she was cruel to her for years and were barely amicable their last year, not due to Rachel's fault of course, but Quinn didn't take to change well and embracing Rachel Berry would have been like wrestling an octopus in water. Anyone could bet money she'd drown in the process.

"My…his teeth are having problems. Wonderful really. I get to make a call, pay for work done on a mouth that isn't mine…this is fun," she said, letting the sarcasm lace every word.

The small brunette let out a slow chuckle and then asks, "do you want to call them now? The dentist?"

"No, I can on the way, it's no big deal, I just can't clench my jaw and I might have to eat baby food," the former girl responded, frowning at the notion.

"How ever would you be able to live if you couldn't clench your jaw or frown?" she asked with a mock tone.

"I won't, I'll probably die and my obit will say she mysteriously was switched into another person's body but what did her in was the inability to produce facial expressions," Quinn said matching her mocking voice as they kept walking and it hit her how this was a natural conversation a couple might have, how mundane it was to discuss going to the dentist.

Rachel laughed again. That laugh that took up a room, explosive and full of life that came from such a small person. "Okay, okay, no botox for you. Let's go…smart ass," she mumbled under her breath.

"I heard that," Quinn mumbled back as she opened the door for Rachel when they stopped by a boutique. As they stepped in blue eyes scanned the place and looked back down at Rachel. "Can't we go to H&M or anthropologie?" She asked, thinking she loved the dresses there but then remembered it wasn't possible to buy them for herself. Then again...Rachel could buy them for herself. Rachel rolled her eyes and Quinn walked away to look at the men's sweaters considering Charlie only had two and a coat might be good. In less than ten minutes she got some socks which look rather punkish, two other sweaters that are very sliming and casual, and a nice stripped blazer all while calling the dentist and setting an appointment for tomorrow. Apparently it was a slow week.

The singer came back with about ten articles of clothing once she's found Charlie, but Quinn had already paid. She looked at the bag and couldn't seem to help but comment. "Are you always this decisive and quick?"

"Hmm, yes. And anyway guys clothes are easier. They lack personality and are generally without variations,' she replied factually. Rachel raised her eyebrows at that and humored her but was also clearly curious.

"So…what did you get," she questioned as Rachel was examining Quinn like a petrie dish. Tan, toned arms lifted the bag and Quinn realized they're a little heavy and before she could think that Rachel's arms looked...well...great, she reached out and attempt to take them from the singer. Rachel let her and gave a small smile back.

"These will look nice on you…but it's a lot of white. You could add…some color…since you are rather lively," She said biting Charlie's lip.

"Really? This coming from the person who wears black and grey all the time?" Rachel asked without missing a beat, drawing out the last part. Quinn nodded and grinned at her, teeth showing and a glimmer in those blue eyes.

For a split second Rachel wanted to call her a dork but held her tongue. She hadn't gone shopping with a friend for years and didn't want to ruin the moment. What the moment was exactly she didn't want to overanalyze but it was nice and felt natural to do this with Quinn.

"How about a red or purple sweater," she asked thinking it over. "Sans any animals. An animal scarf would be good, but that's only because its cold out." She rationalized, making a point to express that she knew what Rachel used to like and didn't want her to change completely. Rachel stared at her longer and finally gave in.

They departed as she went to pick out more things but soon Quinn felt a small hand grab hers and a gentle pull followed, leading her to the dressing room.

"I'll wait out here," she said dropping Rachel's soft hand.

"No, you won't, you're going to come in and see if it all works out. You can be judge and jury." She answered with a smile, knowingly giving Quinn the opportunity to have some control, assuming the girl hadn't changed that much, except for outward appearances of course.

Quinn crossed her arms over her chest, debating if it was safe to be with Rachel in small enclosure and her brain, rather inarticulately screamed Hell No! Rachel grabbed her belt loop and pulled her closer and instead of falling from her balance being shifted she was forced to follow her but braced her hands against the door as the former glee captain smoothly walked into the dressing room. The taller girl stood outside of it for a while, thinking it looked like the vestibule to hell. Rachel left the door open and asked, "aren't you coming in?" Quinn didn't realizing she was shaking her head until she clenched her jaw and the pain came back.

"I'll wait here, if you don't mind." She said with a sigh.

Rachel noticed the stiff body language and answered playfully, "I mind." With that last comment she grabbed the collar of Charlie's sweater and pulled Quinn in.

"Jesus," she under my breath, nearly tripping over my feet, but thankfully still had the natural grace from years of dancing and the abomination that was being a cheerleader for Sue Sylvester's team. "People are going to assume…" she said trailing off. Rachel just smiled and started to take off her shirt. Blue eyes looked the other way even though she'd slept in the same bed with her. It was still odd. Brown eyes looked playful and little deviant through the smile and Rachel noticed Quinn look away which made the former cheerleader blush a slight pink.

Curses almost come out of her mouth, though she's thinking them. She's made out with women, had sex with women, well she gave. If Quinn was more aware she would have realized her life was resembling and sci-fi/romantic comedy as Rachel leaned over, her body inches close to her own... now centimeters away as she grabbed an article of clothing behind her lifting it off the hook. And like a cliché Quinn gulped.

"Sorry," she said to the floor and moved away from a very warm, very in shape, very appealing Rachel Freaking Berry.

"Apology not needed," she said with a smirk and continued to take off her clothes and put on the dress as Quinn put her hands in her pockets, eyes closed and she started to hum. She hadn't realized she was humming the same tune as before until Rachel put her hand delicately on Charlie's shoulder.

"What are you humming?" She asked gently, scared of spooking Quinn, feeling as though it were possible no matter how composed she seemed. Santana's words were taken into account-you couldn't take Quinn at face value. Quinn abruptly stopped, eyes wide, examining Rachel and finished the last part of what she was humming as she took in the dress on the singer. She looked beautiful and she almost said her thoughts but Rachel was looking at her like she was patiently expecting an answer.

"I began to feel my misery in pallet on the floor, listening to music, my misery, that's what I want to sing... its part of an Allan Ginsberg poem." She said sheepishly and felt exposed offering something she loved to Rachel, something she memorized, words that spoke to her.

"That's...sadly beautiful. Like you," she said softly and turned around to grab the animal print scarf she found and placed it around her neck gracefully. "What do you think?" She asked with a slight nervous edge, hand on her hip as she looked up to blue eyes, eyes that she wished were hazel.

"Wonderful," she whispered, purely sincere, lacking any sarcasm as she gave her unwavering attention to Rachel who smiled back at her with a smile that she'd never seen before. One that seemed overdue that said this is the Quinn I wanted to know years ago. Quinn on the other hand refrained from saying that Rachel looked beautiful, though the damn word was on the top of her tongue every second.

Again Rachel started removing her clothes and Quinn closed her eyes every time to the amusement of Rachel, who was getting some joy out of making Quinn as nervous as Quinn would allow herself to seem.

Luckily for Quinn, Charlie didn't have a deviated septum so she was able to breathe easier and seem like she wasn't having a panic attack. When Rachel had tried on everything, all while Quinn's hands were in her pockets to make a point to NOT touch Rachel, a mantra that was being yelled in her head, she relaxed as they exited the dressing room once she had provided her honest opinion on the clothes. The issue was everything looked good on Rachel, she told her what to match with what, but some things fit like a second skin on Rachel and part of her was worried when Rachel wore them in public she'd receive a lot of lecherous attention.

When everything was paid for Quinn took the bags since they were heavy and Rachel had to make a call about rescheduling the workshop allowing Quinn to look around the city she had fallen in love with; all the people, how their lives seemed simple as they walked or sat or caught taxis. She started humming again and caught Rachel with a slight smile as she talked professionally and a minute later she realized as she listened that she liked "professional Rachel." The tiny "diva" was in charge, powerful, and again she gulped because she realized it was attractive. She almost felt something shift below her waist and she stopped all thoughts, ended her humming and immediately thought of anything else-disgusting demons that were shown on Buffy, bloody scenes from Grey's Anatomy that Brittany made her watch, mindless horror movie scenes from Saw that Santana forced her to watch after a few too many shots of whatever alcohol the lawyer had provided. Finally the thing in her pants stopped and she didn't have to think about it at all until Rachel stopped walking and asked, "what's wrong?"

"It's okay, nothing." She dismissed as she continued frowning. She felt a small hand reach up and jerked away from it but stopped herself from moving further away from Rachel when the small woman fixed her with a glare, clearly still in her professional role. Next she felt soft fingertips against her temples.

"Okay," she said casually, not pushing and went along with Quinn's need to focus on something else. "Can you hum again? I like it," she offered and saw the former girl almost smile and the same tune follow. If she tried hard enough she could hear Quinn sing it in her natural voice. Her imagination had never lessened over the years. Rachel was aware she was still a hopeless romantic, went all in, loved New York City like it was in her soul to, she even thought it was perfect to listen to Adele when it was raining.

The ride back to the apartment was easy going, the subway wasn't as packed and little was said. At one point Quinn had stopped humming and Rachel moved closer to her and pressed her hand against Charlie's midsection between his stomach and chest. Quinn found it odd, but not as unnerving that Rachel was becoming more touchy, for lack of a better word. Instead of pulling away, Quinn remained impassive and indifferent until she realized that Rachel rubbed circles into her back when she grew tense, did little things for the sake of trying to make her relax and Quinn was slowly appreciating it-just how receptive Rachel was. Is this how their friendship could have been during high school if they hadn't judged one another? If they hadn't been so passive aggressive or flat out aggressive.

At that point Rachel was gently pressed into her as they rode the subway and Quinn tilted her head to whisper to Rachel, "thanks". It wasn't about swallowing her pride. Quinn came to the realization days ago as she was in her apartment, alone, feeling more cut off from the world as she ever had, wondering where her body was, if Charlie was losing his mind, if he was alive, hoping with everything in her that he was and he'd come back soon. It was about how she shouldn't do this alone, that it wasn't fair to Santana and Brittany for her to drop in on them, even though they called and every time Quinn answered Britt would say I think I have the wrong number and ask Santana if Quinn was straight again and dating a guy.

Rachel hugged Quinn a little stronger at that. No questions asked why she was being thanked. She could analyze it to death but she liked that Quinn was literally leaning on her at the moment, god knows she tried to offer the girl support when they were younger, but rather than say you're welcome she offered another charming smile to Quinn and rode in silence, feeling less alone herself as they headed to the café.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: These chapters are going to be smaller than previous ones. This is a baby chapter. Maybe even a fetus. Its cute though, I liked it because I say ridiculous things such as what's in the chapter, rarely, but they do get said and even more bizarre is that people laugh. Updates won't be frequent. 4 jobs, desire to go to the gym, occasional socializing doesn't leave much room to write, not when I want to read books. Books books! I could live in a bookstore and be content. The world is a library (I happen to also work in one.) Enjoy this very tiny chapter.

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><p>"I'm exhausted!" Rachel said as she gracefully fell into the oversized chair at the cafe. Quinn only rolled her eyes. Not that they were her eyes, but the expression couldn't have been stopped.<p>

As she set the bags down, having carried them all after numerous fans came up to Rachel on the street and asked for pictures, autographs, almost anything and Rachel was a real sport about it. Quinn could have sworn she was seconds away from bursting out a ballad for one of her fans. A little before that Quinn just took the few bags Rachel had off her hands and carried them. "You didn't even carry any bags," she said in a factual tone and saw that the singer was about to comment until the chance was taken away. Santana's voice cut through the lazy, afternoon crowd and exclaimed, "Fabray, I've been waiting her for over an hour. I've run out of reasons why Britt can't have anymore coffee," she said in a loud tone and the former blonde looked around to see the dancer. "She's upstairs in your loft thing you idiot," the lawyer added in bluntly, "with Riley."

Rachel watched the conversation intently. Her eyes darting back and forth. Who was Riley? Riley could be a girl or boy's name. Was the person an ex of Quinn's? The brunette had a range of questions bombarding her head and she got an answer as Santana was ranting what century it was and how Quinn needed to keep her god damn phone on or what was the point of even having it. Really.

All thoughts of an ex stopped when Quinn was engulfed around the legs by a young boy. "Tag! You're it! And what I say goes becaaaaause Britt-any calls be a cutie and Tana says you're Quinn's brother who's just like Quinn! And I love Quinn." He added bashfully. "That's means you're nice. Right? Tana said you're nice." He said looking up hopefully. Quinn kneeled down as best as she could and watched Britt chuckling into her hand as Santana said,"he's your relative" to her love.

For the most part Rachel's brain was keeping up until she hears Quinn a minute later saying Raaaaar Raaar Raar and chasing around Riley. The customers didn't even seem to mind, she watched as some had small smiles on their faces, clearly not annoyed that there was an obvious distraction. Santana twirled around smoothly in her chair and went back to talking to her sister and Brittany placed her hand on her lower back, rubbing small circles and saying that she'll win the case. At that point Rachel tuned out even though a small part of her wanted that. Someone to rub her back and say you're going to own the stage tonight. She was still in her jumble of thoughts until Quinn stops in front of her, blue eyes shinning and says, "I'd make a great dinosaur," and there was a degree of pride in her voice as her eyes dashed around the room, keeping eye on Riley. It also hit Rachel how there was a without a tone laced in that statement as well. She stared at Charlie knowing he would never act goofy.

_Is this real life?_ She asks herself because she's entered bizarre world. When did her life become a circus where she's in the fun house with distorted mirrors, swirl paintings and unsolid ground? She knows she's sung to sold out crowds and everytime that shocks her but seeing Quinn being...obscenly charming is...for once she's at a loss of words as she watched Quinn chase around Riley saying Raar Raar, come back her little man! When did Quinn vanish before her eyes? She was just there. And now she's back again.

_I need to sit down. I am sitting down..._

The words adorable, aloof, and cute popped into her head as rachel continued to watch, unaware of eyes on her. She never thought Quinn could be anything along the lines of adorable but here she was standing over her, Riley at Rachel's level since he was hung upside down with this massive smile on his face. For a split second Rachel was worried until she saw how careful Quinn was being with him, how delicate the hold was, even in a strong gasp and he giggled. Charlie's facial expression bore a smirk and said, "An herbivor so you wouldn't get upset by me eating other dino-steaks though," she clarified and waited to smile, waited to see if Rachel would find it amusing or lame.

Laughter burst out of her. Rachel couldn't remember the last time she laughed that hard, spontaneously and unable to contain it. Quinn lightly smiled down at her and the brunette found it endearing how Quinn was comfortable being a complete nerd. She would have liked this Quinn in high school she thought quickly.

When she manages to catch her breath she says with pure honesty, "You would have been wonderful with Beth." And it takes less than a second to realize she's said exactly the wrong thing as Quinn gently sets Riley down next to the dancer, turns to the counter, says a few words to Brittany quietly as Santana looks disturbingly fierce and smoothly leaves the cafe.

Rachel glances at Santana and wishes she hadn't considering she looks like she'd make a serial killer blush and cower.

"Berry, how many nails do you have up those sleeves for that coffin?"

"Santana," Brittany says gently but holds an undertone of a command to stop. Rachel had never been more thankful for Brittany more than in that moment, knowing Santana was about to unhinge her jaw and swallow her whole or throw her usual verbal knives at her. A chill sweeps through her body at the thought of Santana being in court, but there was that soft side to her as she watched the tan woman stride across the cafe and out the door as though she were on a mission.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: Long overdue and I should apologize but won't. I'm pretty certain my heart is getting pain from the espresso I consume, stress and grad school. However-this chapter does jump around a lot and is slightly abstract and I'm sure annoying so feel free to ask questions. I think its rushed and I'm sure the tenses go back and forth but I don't have the time to edit. This is what you get and I think its a dull ending to the chapter but this story really needs to wrap up. And feel free to give any suggestions (you'll get credit) and if you want to review-even if you hate it-go for it.

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><p>"I should...would you...Santana, I need you to move." Rachel said growing annoyed as she tried to move left to right to get away from the blockade that was Santana Lopez.<p>

"You're serious? Berry, you're not getting more than twenty blocks within Q. And I'd spare your feelings but I don't give a shit, you are magnificently dense and here you were for years saying that you're smart. Not after witness that horrible mistep because that spoke volumes." The beautiful lawyer said shaking her head, honed in and ready to obliterate the small diva even though Brittany had told her to pull back.

"San," Brittany said gently and again Rachel was thankful for the blonde's presence, although Santana wasn't listening to her, but she faced the blonde for a second with a brief smile only to narrow her eyes again at Rachel.

"B, you know Berry is oblivious. And fine, I'll be the bitter reality to her Broadway obsessed-freak mind- Quinn is not going to let it go,'' she said stressing the not. "Hell, I mentioned Beth once and she didn't talk to me for a month. Just because she's been "in like" with you for years doesn't mean you get a free pass to fuck up." The woman said with narrowed eyes.

Though she was being yelled at without a raised tone...how that was possible Rachel wasn't really certain, but she made a mental note that if she ever needed legal representation she'd try to hire her ex glee peer/still tormentor. How things hadn't changed much.

Quinn didn't remember the walk to her apartment. She needed her own space and her own things and a break. The same thoughts kept going through her head, obliterating any chance of maintaining her calm facade. The scaulding water running down her bare back was like a pause button. Showers were always her brief escape. It wasn't as simple as washing emotions away, but the white noise of water and feeling cleansed lessened the weight of her inner conflicts. She didn't remember getting into her apartment and undressing, it was a matter of one foot in front of the other, but her hands were starting to shake now that everything was catching up.

_This is my life. How is this my life? All those years of wishing I was someone else, had a different family, was in a different school, different town...and then...and now..._

It was up in the air. Nothing she felt was concrete. The water pouring over her seemed fitting of her mood-too elusive, too unsolid, and too slippery to hold onto. Her emotions were coming in waves and she hated to feel overwhelmed, but her hands weren't shaking from how livid she was. There was anger, without a doubt, but it was at the unknown. How to get out of this mess, how to get back to her body...

Grabbing a bottle of exfoliant she went through the motions but scrubbed hard at the male body. More than anything she wanted it gone and needed out of it, but running her hands firmly up and down the arms, as though she were trying to peel away the layers of skin back wasn't working. It wasn't like a horror movie when the villian takes of their mask with the special effect make-up and latex looking shredded and disgusting rubber. No, she stood in the shower until she felt raw. Mentally, emotionally or physically...she didn't know which one came out on top.

For the rest of the day she battled with herself. Go back to the cafe? Hire a private detective to find her body? Hole up in her familiar apartment? Deal with Rachel? That was gnawing at her the most. Sleep? Yes, sleep would have to do for now. She felt so tired that she could have sworn she was on a boat, the sea lifting her every other second in a gentle wave...all of her problems sailing away...she hoped...

Far less somber than her usual humming came through the air as Quinn did the dishes after she had made dinner. Rachel felt spoiled as she flipped through the tv channels on mute. It was like stepping into another alternate universe, besides the one where Quinn was Charlie...inside his body. But as Rachel looked on and noticed the soap bubbles going over the not as rough hands and tense shoulders she realized Quinn was the ideal boyfriend/girlfriend. Although she was in a man's body she was very much a woman. Female brain, female emotions and female movements. The brunette didn't think Quinn would ever lose her natural grace no matter what was thrown at her. It forced Rachel to get up from the couch and hug the ex glee mate from behind. The hug was the easiest way to convey what words wouldn't. Arms encircled Quinn's waist and the former blonde reacted per usual-stiffened and paused in her actions.

"Wha..wha.." cleared her throat. Rachel already knew the question and she answered calmly.

"I felt compelled to hug you."

A harsh sound rattled her content mood and she looked around expecting a plate to have fallen to the floor and pieces scattered. The sound continued on, glaring and beeping, an assault on the moment as she opened her eyes and gripped the alarm clock, turning it so she could glare at its face.

After Santana forced her to go upstairs after she paced in the cafe for an hour she took a nap. Only the nap was evil and provided images that reinstated that she couldn't be near Quinn, let alone hug her. Groaning she rolled over, looked at the ceiling and shut her eyes tightly. She was Rachel Berry-she didn't mean to offend or be blunt, but here she was again trying to connect to Quinn, trying to understand her, but mostly trying in vain. Rolling over she closed her eyes again and willed herself to come up with a solution. And if she couldn't do that via dreaming...she was hoping for an epiphany.

Quinn was cold. She barely dried off and flopped into her bed. It wasn't a passing thought that she was naked as she pulled the sheet around her, but she woke shivering. Looking around she pulled herself up and rubbed her eyes. Her back was tense and she popped it as she twisted around. Grabbing a blanket she always kept at the end of her bed she shifted around and laid on her side. Her walls were a light grey-blue and always fit her mood. There was only one frame on the wall-a picture of a girl from the waist down holding a suitcase, clearly ready for her escape, but her eyes roamed to her other wall, becoming re-acquainted with her bedroom...

"Even in New York I long for New York" was quoted in cursive script on the wall. She had painted it on smoothly and clearly with stencils after she had read it from a book. Longing was a painful feeling. Something so out of reach that she knew couldn't be obtained. The elusive quality was alluring and depressing, but she painted the quote on her wall as a reminder that some things in life...such as a massive city can't be held or contained. That everything changes and evolves and as she closed her eyes, burrowed into bed, she thought she would try to live in the moment more. A thought that including seeing Rachel after she had some time to prepare.

"Mmmm this is so good."

"Rach, that's real ice cream," Kurt says as he narrows his eyes at her. Immediately her eyes start to water and it's entirely psychosomatic but she immediately starts to get stomach cramps.

_Oh my god the cows...the factory farms...the hormones and cruelty_she thinks quickly.

She gasps and wakes up in a light sweat. When she looks around, eyes wide and still shocked she sees Quinn roll her eyes...

"You're such a spaz," she mumbles half awake and clearly still half asleep from Rachel's tossing. Slowly she moves closer, her arm coming to hold the brunette around the middle. "Don't change too much," she whispers and kisses her nose, only to turn her head away and go back to sleep.

Am I still sleeping? Rachel asks herself and looks at Charlie's body. The breathing isn't even the same. Charlie used to sleep like a rock and the slightest movement can wake Quinn.

This is real...

_How did we get here?_ Rachel wonders and it comes back in fragments when she looks into blue eyes that she would prefer to be hazel. Bits come back and an overload hits her in the form of jump cuts when a day is condensed into a minute. She remembers the conversation after she tracked down Quinn's apartment after hounding Brittany for the location.

"No, I'm leaving," she said solidly as she reached for the door handle after Rachel had come, unannounced of course and invaded her personal space.

"Run away Quinn. From every problem," Rachel said to a foreign back. That back had never been that muscular before and never tense. Charlie was such a laid back guy. But this was Quinn and she was leaving again. Too many flashbacks of high school went through the singer's mind. Quinn with her dresses, Quinn with pink hair, Quinn with short, blonde hair...

"I don't have to listen to this," the taller of the two says fiercely as she turns around.

"Yes, you do," Rachel says with her hands on her hips. She needs Quinn to hear her.

"No, because then I have to stand here and hear things I don't want to. And I know what you're going to say," she whispers the last part.

"You're assuming a lot there. Quinn…" she trailed off, softened her shoulders and told herself to relax and breathe-that this was just Quinn. And by just Quinn she meant the person that challenged her, the person who always told her she was too good for Lima and too talented to not make something of herself, the person who pushed her with her biting marks that held an undertone in every word, this was the person who needed to hear this. "Just because you're a bit damaged doesn't mean you're broken." She said firmly and for a second Quinn thought it could have been a song lyric. Coming from Rachel it had potential to be sung beautifully and in the end, once it sunk in she really didn't expect it. Rachel Berry would and probably could always shock her. She could only stand there and let the words do their toll.

"I'm sorry I mentioned Beth. I…it's really the only time we ever really got along. Not that really is the best fitting word…" she mumbled the last part. "It seemed the only time period where you were out of your element and pregnant. Obviously the student body was harsh to you but I remembered you still looked…beautiful." Rachel said softly.

"You'd look beautiful pregnant," Quinn said without thinking because it seemed like a factual statement more than anything.

"You looked beautiful pregnant," Rachel countered, recalling how Quinn glowed-partially with hostility and the other part hormones. Then she laughed and tilted her head. "That's easily one of the oddest statements of my life considering you're outwardly a guy…even more odd you could get me pregnant now." Rachel thought in her head and then widened her eyes when she apparently said the last idea out loud. She didn't miss the blush to Charlie's cheeks before she diverted her eyes to the floor. "That would be too much like Being John Malchovich though…"

"Rachel, why are you here? To apologize?" Quinn said cutting to the point, though she found Rachel's film reference amusing.

"Yes, to apologize and I also wanted you back in Charlie's apartment," she offered and failed to say that she wanted the former prom queen runner back in her life, physically around and present.

"Why do you date below" The former blonde asked out of seemingly nowhere which was followed by a frowning Broadway star. Seeing that Rachel was thrown by the question Quinn continued because she really wanted to be on the same page as Rachel or at the very least in the same book. "Charlie, regardless that he's my half-brother apparently is a loser. If anything he reminds me of a certain Finn Hudson and we both know that's not a compliment. Where is it going with Charlie? Planning on marrying him?" Quinn asked to gauge Rachel and see if the relationship was something she deeply cared for and put stock in.

"What do you expect me to do Quinn? This isn't about him. You're stuck in his body out of inconvenience and now you're forced to spend time with me. I tried being your friend and maybe this would have been easier if we had visited each other more in college. If we're going to be completely honest I would have dated you in high school." Rachel expressed in a rush.

"That would have never happened." Quinn said, shaking her head.

"Clearly," the brunette said bitterly. "Because I was Rachel berry without the status now. I was annoying, a bad dresser as was so often made aware of, bossy, and"

Quinn had to cut her off. "No, because I was in denial about who I was attracted to. Period. It wasn't personal. I mean..it was, but I didn't realize it until years later that I would have dated you if I was comfortable with myself and generally more aware," she said softly and then drew in a breath. "Only an idiot wouldn't want to date you." She said with a smirk.

"Well not that I know," Rachel said with a twinkle in her eye that Quinn took as partially mischievous and the remainder as the more mature, cheeky Rachel, "can you come back to the apartment or loft? Brittany calls is a man cave but it's much less bachelor feeling than before and frankly I could use a latte," she finished and purposefully chose not to say she could fit in a nap even though she wanted to simply lay down with Quinn. Voicing that seemed like too much too soon.

Now she looked at blue eyes that were busy rolling. Her mind had caught up. here they were. Lying in bed with the grey sheets she was growing to like and Quinn was calling her a spaz and in her half-sleep mumbled, "don't change too much."

Rachel finally pieced it together, puzzle piece by puzzle piece that they had come back to the café, she'd had her latte that didn't push away any of her exhaustion and they ended up back in bed with small hands running through Charlie's short hair, making Quinn feel more and more relaxed as Rachel's thumb kept grazing circled over the left temple.

Quinn leaned in and kissed Rachel's nose and went back to sleep. It was all she could offer at the moment. Tentative and safe but more than nothing.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you for reading. Been meaning to make this post for months. This story won't be finished so you can use your imaginations and think how they end up together.

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><p>My version is Charlie wanders by the shop and thinks Quinn has taken over his life but made it better, improved it and he feels more like a loser. But weeks later after he and Quinn experience more headaches and nose bleeds (why not? drama.) they end up in the same hospital and he starts talking to her saying she did a better job at his life than he did and she said don't worry-Rachel likes losers, its her type. But they can't talk anymore because they switch bodies and then Rachel comes in and kisses Leo thinking Charlie is Quinn and Quinn leaves quickly without Rachel knowing. She goes back to her apartment, broods as brooding goes after she takes care of herself by showering a lot, and tries not to think about Rachel. So she talks to Santana and her sister who gets it all and point blankly says-so you fell in love with Rachel and Quinn just glares at her. The sister (I forget her name...) says everyone knows that look means yes.<p>

Course Quinn and Rachel have been going on dates without calling them dates and they get closer but Quinn and Rachel don't sleep together. Not until Rachel goes to Quinn's apartment after asking Santana and pulling the info out of her. So imagine some dramatic dialog when Rachel knocks on the door and Quinn opens it and says I miss you, I've missed you. Quinn gets tense and says-well you have your boyfriend back and Rachel stands there stunned at being dismissed but says-you think I couldn't tell IMMEDIATELY that it wasn't him. You don't kiss the same. You don't even hold me the same. And Rachel slowly puts her hands on Quinn's shoulders until she pulls her closer (I'm not worried about writing quality right now, I'm simply picturing it.) Quinn slowly lets herself be pulled closer and her hands go to Rachel's hips gently with trepidation and hesitancy. Slowly she moves Rachel's shirt out of the way so she can lightly press her hand against Rachel's lower back and feel her skin. Rachel says-that, only you do that. I want this.

Quinn blinks slowly at her, trying to wrap her mind around it and lets out a slow breath as if preparing herself for Rachel and everything that comes with Rachel. She lightly smiles knowing full well no one can prepare for Rachel Berry.

The end. That's all I got, they stay together, they learn 1 another more, the sexual tension lessens by actually being together and it feeling natural.

Charlie goes back to his hometown, Santana informs them after she asks a friend to track him. Her sister and she sister's boyfriend end up running the cafe. Santana is how she is-however you want her to be. With Brittany or whoever. Charlie and Quinn don't establish a friendship.

Clearly I don't care about this story anymore. I'm semi-sorry. Stay well people. The reviews to this ending have been amusing. I laughed contently at some, thank you. No, no, I didn't base this story on my life at all. Cause I don't switch bodies with people...  
>but really-in no way is this story similar to my life. Thanks for reading this junk. (Pure junk!)<p> 


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